Stuck in the Sixties
by heystory
Summary: An extra credit assignment goes awry, four girls get sent back in time to 1967, a man named Jim has a very specific plan to get what he wants, and the Monkees, of course, are involved in it all. (This story makes about as much sense as the TV show for which it was written.) EVERY MONKEE/OC AT SOME POINT OR ANOTHER
1. Prologue: Selling Out

Stuck in the Sixties

 **Prologue: Selling Out**

"Would you guys just listen to me for a second, please?" Jim pleaded. "Our company will be great for you. A well-known label, a staff whose job it is to get you places, the works. We'll make you stars."

Peter, Davy, Micky and Mike looked across the table at their friend. They had heard his spiel many times and they had always given him the same answer:

"No," they said in unison. Jim was clearly exasperated at another firm denial.

"Why not?" He asked his usual follow-up question.

"Look man," Mike said, leaning forward on his elbows. "It's the same reason we said no before. Your father's company, its management style…it's just not us, man."

The rest of the group nodded firmly.

"We've talked about it lots of times," Davy added. "We all wanna make it big, of course – "

"—But we want to stay true to who we are," Peter finished.

"And we're not sell outs," added Micky. This made Jim's face flush.

"Sell outs?! I'm your _friend_ , I'm not asking you to – "

"Jim, please," Mike said again. "I'm not trying to shut you down, but you already know how this conversation is going to end. Can't you let it go?"

"I'm trying to do you a favor – I'm helping you out!"

Mike sighed. "We respectfully decline. We appreciate what you do for others, but we don't want it for ourselves."

Jim fell silent. The story always went the same old way. Darling Management had a lengthy list of restrictions and control over musicians that they signed, and the Monkees were always scared off by it. No amount of compromise on either end (and no amount of "future success" that was promised) had ever been enough for them to give. Normally, Jim would quiet down about it for a few months and then try again, but this time he was getting desperate. He needed to prove to his father that he could take over management of the company eventually, and Jim Senior _loved_ the Monkees. He had high hopes that they would be successful and, if they were under his family's label, _he_ would be successful. And Jim Senior had designated the task of recruiting the Monkees to his son. And Jim had failed. Again.

After a very long silence during which the band exchanged uncomfortable shrugs and Jim brooded, Micky spoke:

"Look Jim, we're sorry – "

"No."

"What?"

"You're going to regret this." His voice was very quiet, little more than a growl.

All four band mates' eyes were glued to Jim. They had never seen him this angry. Jim was about to explode.

"I'm not going to lose my company because of a group of Monkees!" He exclaimed, standing up and slamming his hands on the table.

"Lose your company?" Peter asked. "What are you talking about, Jim?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Why do you think I'm so insistent? I need you to sign away your future success – that my father just _knows_ you're going to have – or else he won't pass on ownership of Darling Management to me after he retires."

Davy stood up. "So this was all a ploy to get us to sign our lives away? I thought we were friends!"

"Not quite." Jim sneered. "But it doesn't matter. I'll figure out a way to get you."

Mike silently shook his head as he stood up. "No you won't. This bites, man, but it's time to call it quits."

Jim shot them one more glare and then stormed out.

After the door slammed shut behind him, the Monkees looked at each other.

Peter looked sad. "I can't believe he lied about being our pal."

Davy patted him on the shoulder. "Sometimes people aren't always who you think they are."

"Should we be nervous?" Micky asked, scratching his head.

"Nah," Mike replied, adjusting his hat and walking to the fridge. "What can he do except brood about it?"

In his office on Main Street, Jim was sulking. He was also avoiding the phone call he knew he had to make to his father, because he did not want to break the news that, this time, it looked as though he had finally failed once and for all.

He rose from his desk chair and walked over to pour himself a shot of whiskey that he kept in the cupboard for days like today. When he sat back down, glass in hand, he noticed that there was a sealed envelop on his desk that had certainly not been there a moment ago.

He glanced around his office. There was only one door, which he had been facing as he poured his drink. Nobody had entered. Where had the letter come from?

Perplexed, he opened the envelope. Goosebumps shivering across his arms, he saw, in his own handwriting:

 _Jim,_

 _Don't give up yet. You're going to get the Monkees. I have a plan._

 _-Jim_

 _November 9_ _th_ _, 2016._

* * *

Tune in next chapter to see how failing chemistry can actually get you into a time machine.


	2. Extra Credit

**Chapter One: Extra Credit**

"The date is Friday, the eleventh of November. The year is two thousand and sixteen. We are at Malcolm University, specifically the science laboratory, in Indianapolis, Indiana. The test subjects will now state their names."

The elderly man who had been speaking looked at the four girls sitting in front of him and gestured toward the microphone. The girls hurriedly shared a quick glance, and the one on the end leaned forward and spoke.

"Barbara Fultz," she stated in a clear voice.

"Yuki Fredrick," said the one sitting next to her.

"Kath McConnell."

"Melany Hugh."

"Good, thank you ladies," the old man said, after he turned off the recording device. "Just wanted to get that out of the way before I forgot. Now, let me explain why you're here."

"For extra credit, right?" Barbara asked.

"You are correct," he said. "I had meant the specifics, but that reminds me –" he opened the drawer to his left and pulled out four red slips of paper. "You need a little something for the professor, I suppose. This is for…Chemistry one-oh-one, correct?"

The four girls nodded. As he was writing it down slowly on each slip, he asked:

"So what made you four want to give up a Friday night for some extra credit?"

His brown eyes looked up from the paper and settled on Kath first. He watched her carefully as she spoke.

"I'm failing Chemistry and I only have two more semesters left," said Kath. "I _don't_ want to be delayed by a gen ed that's not even part of my major, so it's worth it to sacrifice one Friday." Avoiding his gaze, she brushed loose strands of blonde away from her face and looked down.

Barbara jumped in: "I'm failing Chemistry too!" She almost made it sound positive. "And, yeah, I just want to get this class finished. I'm not about to retake it, so I'm not about to fail out of it." She took the round sunglasses off the top of her head and hung them on the front of her shirt. Her dark arms were bare, despite the chilly interior of the science lab and the cold November weather in general.

"Science isn't your bag, huh?" said the old man with a something that was a cross between a smile and a grimace.

Yuki raised her hand hesitantly. "I'm also failing Chemistry." She pushed her cat-eye glasses up the bridge of her nose. "And I'm sorry, I think I've forgotten your name, Professor…?"

"Darling."

"Right," she nodded. "Professor Darling. Thank you for giving us this opportunity. We can all really use it. I know Melany and I have another really tough class together, and it just seems like Chemistry is the one that gets neglected when we study. Right, Mel?" She looked kindly at the quiet girl next to her.

"Yeah," Melany said flatly. "I'm failing, too."

Professor Darling chuckled. "Well, it's a good thing that the extra credit opportunity really has nothing to do with Chemistry then. I put out the call for some test subjects for a little experiment I'm working on, but I suppose it takes failing a class for four college students to spend seven hours of their Friday trying to fall asleep in the science lab."

The girls, unsure of what he meant, looked a bit confused.

"Young ladies, please follow me to the testing room and I'll explain what it is you're going to be doing."

They stepped out of the office and followed the professor to a room down the hall. He opened the door and ushered them inside.

What they saw can be described most accurately as a variation of a CAT scanner, except it was much larger, and could easily fit four people side by side instead of only one. Next to it, attached by cords and wires, was a large monitor and keyboard on a stand with a chair next by, presumably for Professor Darling to sit on while he ran the machine.

"It's my pride and joy, my Dream Reader," he said, looking almost lovingly at the machine. "I'm fortunate enough to be funded by the University for my research on this project, and I must say, it's coming along very well. I've been able to pick up new images of brain activity while the subjects are asleep, and I'm well on my way to being able to, in a sense, record dreams. I need you four for another set of tests, so try your best to dream something exciting as you fall asleep this evening."

The girls ooh-ed and ahh-ed, duly impressed.

"How long have you been working on this?" Barbara asked, walking around the machine to get a closer look.

"Twenty-five years," he said. "They wanted me to retire ten years ago, but at that point I thought I was nearing a breakthrough. And here we are now."

"Still nearing a breakthrough?"

"All times are near, if you round up enough," he replied. "Oh, I forgot my laptop. You girls your bags in the corner over there and try to make yourselves as sleepy as possible," he winked. "I'll be right back."

He left, and as soon as the doors shut, Kath said: "He makes me a little uncomfortable, I'm gonna be honest."

"Same," Barbara said, coming back around the side of the machine. "Dream reader? Seriously? This guy _is_ as crazy as everyone says."

"Crazy?" Melany asked, dark eyes focusing on Barbara. "Do people say he's crazy?"

Yuki nodded sadly. "He's a nice man, though. It's unfortunate what people say about him."

"I don't know, I think the rumors are pretty well-deserved…how old is he? Late seventies? Like, retire already dude!" Barbara said, throwing her purse into the corner.

The rest of the girls did the same with their bags.

"He must not be…all there, you know?" Yuki sat down on the end of the machine.

"Maybe not. Whatever though, I'm still thankful for the ridiculous amount of extra credit I'll get for this. It'll probably save my grade."

"The wonderful college system: where we can pass another class by falling asleep for seven hours on a Friday night." Melany did the sign of the cross. "God bless America."

The rest of the girls agreed.

Professor Darling opened the door and stepped inside, holding his computer. "Ready girls?"

He explained to them that they should leave electronics out of the machine, and lay down as close together as possible so all would fit without falling off the edge. He said only their heads and shoulders would be inside the circular tube part of the machine, and he would turn off the lights once it was up an running to make it easier for them to sleep.

"Goodnight," Barbara whispered with a giggle as they all lay down beside each other.

With a soft whir, the machine kicked into gear. They couldn't see anything moving around and when Professor Darling shut off the lights and began tapping away at the control keyboard in the darkness, they closed their eyes.

For the next fifteen minutes, they tried their best to get comfortable. Professor Darling's typing eventually stopped. The whirring of the machine was soothing white noise. They heard a soft chuckle. And then –

The sound of waves crashing onto the shore.

* * *

Coming up: a group of Monkees make an interesting beach discovery.


	3. I Don't Think We're in Indiana Anymore

**Chapter Two: I Don't Think We're in Indiana Anymore**

Barbara awoke to a blinding light and hot, humid air. She blinked, her eyes adjusting slowly to the sun's glare, and noticed that someone was almost nose-to-nose with her.

"Hey fellas, this one's awake!" The young man hovering above her called out.

"What kind of a dream is this?" Barbara mumbled to nobody in particular, turning her head and noticing sand everywhere. "Wait – Is this lucid dreaming? Did I finally get it figured out?"

"You're awake," said the man again. "Are you all right?" Barbara's grogginess was fading and she realized that he had dark, _beautiful_ eyes and –

"An English accent? A hot guy with an English accent?" Barbara sat up and looked around. She was facing the sea; deep endless blue all along the horizon, and a white strip of sand that went on for miles in each direction. "A hot guy with an English accent on a _beach_?! I respectfully disagree with you, Sir. I _am_ dreaming."

He laughed. "You're not. Mike, come 'ere and tell her she's not dreaming."

"Hang on, Davy."

Barbara turned around and saw that she was accompanied on this beach by her other three Chemistry 101 classmates, splayed out in various places nearby. A different boy was helping each of them up. The one who had called back to Davy was looking concernedly at Yuki. Or maybe he was just staring at all the pink and purple in her hair. Yeah, it was definitely the second one.

"What's going on?" Kath spoke from her position a few feet away. A blonde boy was helping her to her feet slowly and her eyes were wide, mouth open. "How on earth did we – where are – what –"

"A beach?" Yuki exclaimed, jumping up. "But we were in Indiana two seconds ago!"

Melany's huge blue eyes were even larger as she peered around and then up at the curly-haired boy kneeling beside her.

"Guys," Barbara said, pushing herself into a standing position. "It's a dream. We're still getting tested, this is just what we're dreaming."

"But we can't all be having the same dream, Barbara." Kath's voice had the trying-hard-not-to-panic twinge to it.

Barbara halted. Kath was right. The attractive Davy was still standing next to her, watching her. She pinched herself.

"Ow," she muttered. Then, as she finally realized what that meant: " _What the hell?!_ "

She pinched Davy, who yelped, and then ran over to Yuki, who was nearest, and pinched her, too. Shouts of protest greeted her as she eventually pinched everyone within her five-foot radius, including the other three strange boys. She slapped her arm, face, and pinched herself once more, just to be sure.

"Oh my god. We're awake."

"I know," Yuki said.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Being in that machine."

"Me too," chorused the rest.

The girls had gathered together in a huddle and turned to notice that the four boys were standing a respectful distance away, watching, with looks of confusion on their faces.

"Um," Yuki said, smiling politely. "Sorry, this is a bit strange, but, well, we don't really know how we ended up here."

"Clearly," said the curly-haired boy. Barbara really liked his hair, it was very fluffy and there was a lot of it. The one who had helped Yuki – Davy had called him Mike – shoved him.

"Shut up, Mick. Can't you see they're out of it?"

"Maybe it's heatstroke. Three of them have sweaters on. It's _June_."

Kath, Yuki and Melany looked down at themselves.

"I _am_ a little warm." Melany took off her cardigan. Barbara was suddenly thankful for her always-warm internal body temperature and her fondness of never wearing sleeves, even in the winter.

Kath nudged Barbara and whispered: "How can it be June when it's November? How long were we asleep?"

"Beats me."

Yuki asked politely, "Can you tell us where we are?"

"Malibu."

"California?!" Barbara exclaimed.

The boys nodded.

"Okay. June. California. That explains the heat," Kath said in a voice of forced calm. "Makes perfect sense."

"Oh, _perfect sense_ ," Melany said sarcastically. "This whole situation is completely clear now."

"I think we should get them out of the sun," Davy said.

"Wait, wait," Barbara interrupted. "Listen, we're not crazy. We were doing an extra credit project for our Chemistry class in _Indiana,_ and we all fell asleep in this dream reader machine and when we woke up we were across the country in, apparently, a completely different month." This was met with silence. "We're not crazy."

The blonde spoke up. "They need water."

The one called Mike nodded. "Our house is just a minute up the beach," he gestured behind them. "Let's go have a sit down and talk this out. We'll help you get back home."

Barbara was thinking that all they really needed was a phone, but then she remembered that they had left them all in another month in Indiana. And she _was_ thirsty. She followed as the boys began walking up the beach.

As they walked, the girls shared their names and then the boys introduced themselves: There was Davy, Mike, Micky and Peter, and they were roommates in a house along the beach here. They also mentioned something about monkeys and being musicians, but at that point in the introduction, Barbara began to be distracted by the other beachgoers. The girls were all wearing that retro, vintage-y style of bikini. Even the men had old-fashioned-looking swimsuits, like the kind that covered part of their chest and went over their shoulders. Girls had hair that either looked to be about ninety-percent hair spray and curlers, or was cut very short. The pixie cut was popular back home, of course, but it seemed that around here, about one out of three girls was sporting a similar style.

Then she realized that the outfits of the boys in front of them were a little off, too. They were clad in deep V's, flowy sleeves, bright colors and patterns. Strings of beads adorned a few of their necks. And those swim shorts on Davy were much shorter than she'd seen on many men lately (not that she was complaining, she thought with a shrug).

Kath seemed to notice this at the same time, and Barbara heard her ask, somewhat sarcastically, "California fashion is more wild than I thought. What year is this, nineteen seventy-five?"

Peter, the blonde one, turned around and said simply: "No, nineteen sixty-seven."

All four girls stopped mid-step, looked at each other and then stared out in the same direction, as if looking into a camera.

 _"Nineteen sixty-seven?!"_

* * *

Next time on STUCK IN THE SIXTIES: Are the girls REALLY in 1967?! HOW did they get there!? WHO is behind it all?! (only one of those questions gets answered.) ALSO: ONE more mention of the DEEP V SHIRT DAVY IS WEARING.

I also want to thank the wonderful Guest reviewer who said that they hope I keep updating, and the lovely user who added this to their story alerts/favorites. You guys help me stay motivated. The chapters are gonna keep coming. Thanks again.


	4. And I Don't Know if I'm Ever Coming Home

**Chapter Three: And I Don't Know if I'm Ever Coming Home**

"Are you joking?" Kath's stomach dropped. Her instinct was to assume that Peter was trying to play along with her comment, but everything that had occurred in the last fifteen minutes was making it difficult for her to distinguish between jokes and reality.

Peter was looking at her, head cocked to one side. "Why would I joke about what year it is?"

"Oh my _god_." Barbara was laughing. "This is too much. I _am_ dreaming – "

Mike interrupted her. "Now hold on a second, what year do _you_ think it is?"

"It's two thousand and sixteen," Melany said quietly. "At least, that's the last thing we remember."

"Are you saying you're from the future?" Micky asked, raising his eyebrows. "I'm not buying it."

"I don't know, they _do_ look a little outlandish," Davy muttered, staring them up and down.

"Watch who you're calling outlandish, Mister floral deep-V-and-short-shorts." Barbara crossed her arms.

"Oh come off it, this is high fashion!"

Yuki gasped. "We _are_ in nineteen sixty-seven."

Mike held out his arms and stepped forward. "Okay, listen here. This is us – " he gestured to brown paneled house behind them, built into the cliff-side with a porch facing the sea. "—Let's go and sit down. There you go, right up those stairs. Mick, go ahead and show them the way."

The girls fell silent and followed. Kath was at a loss at what was happening.

They entered through the porch door into a large, open room that housed a kitchen in one corner, an alcove to their left where a drum set, keyboard and guitars sat, and a few couches and chairs in the middle of the room. There was also a spiral staircase that led to a second floor near what must be the front door.

Micky led them to the couches while Peter and Davy headed to the kitchen. Mike, who had been bringing up the rear, sat down on one of the couches and invited the girls to join. All four of them squeezed nervously together on the sofa opposite. A moment later they each had a glass of ice water and the rest of the boys had joined them.

"Okay." Mike seemed to be the leader-figure of this little group. Kath remembered that they had said they were a band. What had they called themselves? Some kind of animal, she thought. "This afternoon, we were on a nice walk along the beach and suddenly we stumbled upon four girls, unconscious on the sand, wearing very warm clothes for an eighty-five-degree summer day. Those girls were you four," he said, looking at them pointedly. They nodded and he went on:

"As you can see by the calendar on the wall over there," he pointed across toward the kitchen. "It's June fifth, nineteen sixty-seven. A Thursday. About five PM, if you want to be exact."

"Mike, what are you doing, man," Micky interrupted. "We all know this – "

He held up a hand. "Just trying to spell it all out so we're all on the same page. Anyway, ya'll are saying that you're from Indiana, in some year in the future. Right?"

"Right," the four girls said.

"Right. So, help me understand this. How did it happen?"

The girls recounted their story from the beginning. At the mention of Professor Darling, Mike interrupted.

"Is this Darling guy older?"

Melany nodded. "He's in his late seventies."

Mike shared a sideways glance with Davy, and then whispered something. Davy shook his head dismissively.

Kath was about to ask why his age was significant when Yuki spoke up.

"So, you see, we're grateful for you boys finding us, and we appreciate your offer to help us get home but…" Her voice trailed off and she looked as though she was about to cry.

"We don't really know how," Melany finished, her eyes falling.

There was silence.

"Pete, can you go find the trunk?" Mike asked. "It's still too hot in here for them to be wearing sweaters."

"Sure thing." As Peter headed off up the stairs, the conversation resumed.

"I know you probably think we're insane, but we're being honest. We have no idea how this happened, or if it was supposed to, or why it was us, or who did it to us…nothing. I'm sorry." Yuki heaved a sigh.

Barbara patted her shoulder. "I wish we could give you some kind of proof, but all of our belongings are back in, well, the _future_."

The three boys on the couch across from them looked at one another. Davy shrugged. Micky looked back at them, squinting as if that would make it clearer to him whether or not they were being genuine. He and Kath made eye contact and she tried to convey sincerity as best as she could, but she also imagined how unbelievable their story must sound. She also began to get an odd sensation that something about that moment had happened before. As she was puzzling over this, Micky looked away.

"Is anyone hungry?" Mike asked the group.

"I'm hungry." Micky raised hand. Davy nodded.

"Me too," Barbara said. The rest of the girls admitted that they could eat as well.

"I'll go get us a pizza. Now tell me: Do they still have those in two thousand and sixteen?"

Kath finally cracked a smile, and she heard Melany giggle quietly from beside her.

"Yes, they do. Thank you, Mike." Yuki said graciously.

Barbara was rummaging in her in pocket. "Here, I have some cash. I don't want you guys paying for pizza for a bunch of random girls all by yourself." She held out a twenty. "It's all I got, but it's something at least."

Mike raised his eyebrows. "I know there's eight of us, but we're not feedin' an army here, ma'am."

Melany leaned over. "Barbara, it's nineteen sixty-seven. Twenty bucks went a lot farther back then. Or, um, twenty bucks _goes_ a lot farther _now_."

Barbara looked a bit embarrassed, but handed Mike the twenty anyway. "Just take it. Get some Coke or something."

"Whatever you say."

There was a loud crash and everyone looked over to the staircase. Peter had thrown the trunk down from the top of the stairs was sliding down the railing after it.

"Found the trunk!"

Micky rolled his eyes. "Isn't that dumb?"

"What's this about?" Barbara asked as Peter picked it up and set it down in front of the girls on the coffee table.

As an answer, Davy opened it. Women's clothing.

"So you can change into something less warm and a little more nineteen sixties," he said. "Might as well do your best to fit in, eh?"

"Why do you guys have – "

"Don't ask."

The boys showed them to a bedroom on the first floor where they could change and Peter brought the trunk inside.

"We'll be back in a bit with the pizza," Mike said. "Peter'll stay here though, just ask him if you need anything."

The girls thanked them, closed the door and were finally alone for the first time.

"Okay, real talk. What's going on?" Barbara asked, sitting down on one of the beds. Yuki was sifting through the trunk.

"We're in the house of four strange men fifty years in the past." Kath had rested her face in her hands, trying to collect herself.

"Yes, thank you Kath for recapping our situation. But what are we going to do about it?"

Yuki spoke up. "I don't know if there's much we _can_ do. Professor Darling might be trying to get us back, though. Maybe all this was an accident?"

Melany shook her head. "I think we're exactly where he meant us to be. You don't 'accidentally' make a time machine. We were his test subjects, but not for a dream reader."

"I knew he was crazy," Barbara slammed her fist down on the mattress. "He better come back for us."

"But what about these boys? We can't continue to impose on them, I would feel bad about staying here much longer." Yuki held up a short, bright green romper-esque piece, testing it against her for sizing.

"That would look awesome with your hair," Barbara said, joining Yuki at the trunk. "And as for the guys, I say we accept their pizza and then ask them where we could get a hotel. Oh, shit – do any of you have money?"

"Oh!" Yuki dropped the outfit and reached into the pocket of her jeans. "I forgot, I returned a book for a class I dropped and sold an old textbook on the way to our extra credit. I have three hundred dollars in cash right here!"

Melany and Kath discovered that they had sixty-two more dollars between them as well. Barbara had already donated her twenty to the pizza fund, but with the value of the dollar being what it was in 1967, the girls felt much better about surviving for a little while without a home.

"We could look for jobs," Yuki suggested. "If our money runs out and we're still here."

"I hope it doesn't come to that, though," Barbara said quietly. A sad silence fell.

Kath took a deep breath. "All we can do is make the best of it until then. We'll change clothes, eat this pizza and then ask the boys about the hotel."

The other three were in agreement and the girls went back to the trunk.

Yuki ended up wearing the green romper, looking as effortless as if she had always dressed that way. Barbara, who had a body type that looked good in absolutely anything, also found an outfit easily, as every short dress was a good length for her height. Melany was looking at the flared pants and Kath was worried that the straight A-line style of dresses might not go over her hips very easily.

Yuki and Barbara, upon changing, left to join Peter in the living room, leaving Kath with Melany.

"I wish it was that easy for me to pick something," Melany muttered. "It's difficult enough for me to find clothes in the twenty-first century."

"Same," Kath said. "That's why I wear high waisted jeans all the time. Hides the pooch." She pinched her stomach. Melany rolled her eyes.

"Come on, you're not fat, Kath."

"I know," she said with a smirk. "I love my pooch, don't get me wrong. These short dresses would be adorable on you." She held up a neon pink number with flowers all over it.

Melany shook her head. "I don't like bright colors. They make me stand out. And I don't like short things, either. My legs are really pale."

Kath realized this was the most she had heard Melany speak. "Nothing wrong with standing out. Or pale legs, for that matter."

The dark-haired girl shrugged. "Attention isn't really my bag."

Kath went back to pulling out articles of clothing. She found a dress that was longer, would definitely cover her bum, and looked wide enough for her to get into. She pulled off her sweater and discovered that the dress easily zipped up.

"Did you catch that look between Mike and Davy when we mentioned Professor Darling's name?" Melany asked, buttoning some high waisted gray bell-bottoms over a tank top. "Wonder if they know him."

"Know him?" Kath asked. "That would be way too much of a coincidence."

Melany shrugged. "He would be in his late twenties right now. I don't know where he lived before Indiana. Could be the same guy."

"Yeah, but how would we ever know for sure? I dunno about you, but I don't even know his first name."

Melany nodded. "That's true."

The girls were looking at themselves in the mirror, Kath realizing that she might actually like this new style, and Melany adjusting her large, dangly earrings. The brown-haired girl suddenly stopped and bit her lip, looking nervous.

"What? Does this look okay?" Kath asked, thinking that Melany's look was a comment on their outfit choices.

"Oh yeah, you look fine. But – Kath, I think I've seen those boys before. Like, I'm one hundred percent sure, actually. I know who they are."

* * *

NEXT WEEK (or sooner, depending on how I feel), learn how Peter Tork feels about all this craziness. But just Peter. ALSO, what do these girls even _look like_? Let Peter describe them to you. Hope to see you in the next chapter.

Also, thank you to the second person who add this to their story alerts! DarkHuntress25 and Lisa Boon, you give me hope.


	5. Peter and the Girls

**Chapter Four: Peter and the Girls**

Peter made himself comfortable on one of the mismatched cushy chairs, sipping his ice water with lemon, and waiting for the four strange girls to reemerge from the bedroom. As he waited, he thought about all they had said. Did he believe them?

It was nothing out of the ordinary for the Monkees – to stumble upon a group of time traveling women from the future. Ridiculous things happened to them regularly. Perhaps that was why he wasn't too concerned about it. He was never a suspicious person, anyway; to him, the arrival of the girls was another average day here at 1334 North Beechwood Boulevard.

Mike, Davy and Micky had left quickly, without talking about what they would end up doing with the women. They'd decided that the girls could stay there that evening, obviously – they weren't going to kick them out to fend for themselves on their first night, regardless of whether or not they were telling the truth about where they were from.

He wondered, as the next several minutes ticked by, if people still knew about the Monkees in the future.

Eventually, two of the girls exited the bedroom and took a seat opposite him. They looked at each other and then down at their clothes. They looked less conspicuous to him now in a style that he was familiar with, but the tattoos that the African American girl had all down her arms (along with her nose ring), and the other girl's multicolored hair were still throwing him for a bit of a loop.

"I'm sorry, I think I've forgotten your names," he said, breaking the silence.

"Barbara," said the tattooed girl.

"I'm Yuki," the other one replied. She had to be at least a little bit Japanese, he decided. She was gorgeous, but Peter quickly reminded himself that he was meant to help the girls feel comfortable, not stare at them.

"Peter," he said, in case they had forgotten his name as well. "Now, what year are you from, again? Two-thousand something?"

"Sixteen," Barbara said. "Pretty far away."

"Not too far." He did some quick mental calculations. "Hey, I'll probably see it someday. What's it like there?"

The girls glanced at each other again.

"Well…there's cell phones," Barbara began. "And iPads are really cool."

"And the first man lands on the moon just a couple years from now," Yuki added.

"Yeah, but that's not twenty sixteen, Yuki."

"Oh, right. It's still the future, though."

"We also have this thing called the Internet, it's amazing," Barbara said, excitedly, speaking fast. "You can talk to people anywhere in the world, you can find information without going to the library, you can watch movies – "

"Oh, movies! Star Wars, that's a thing – "

"Oh yeah, I bet they would _love_ that."

Peter was doing his best to try to understand the rapidity of these statements about the future, to no avail. Inter-what? A war over stars? The blank look on his face must have shown because both girls suddenly realized that they might not be making sense.

"Sorry," Yuki offered. "We were probably a little confusing. I've never had to explain the future to anyone before."

Barbara nodded. "Yeah. I'll try to figure out a better way to tell you about iPads. Cause those things are _so_ damn cool."

Yuki laughed. "Barbara, they're not _that_ cool."

Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Do you believe us?" Yuki asked.

Peter hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah. I do." He explained that this actually wasn't the craziest thing he'd ever experienced. "And you seem pretty genuine. Also, I've never seen tattoos like that on a girl, or hair like yours."

The two girls laughed, then. Barbara stood up and showed Peter her ink up close. She pointed out the flower and dragon combo, explaining that her older brother was a tattoo artist, and he did most of them for her.

"Do you have any?" This was directed toward Yuki.

She blushed and nodded. "But they're not in any, um, very visible locations."

Peter then decided it was a good time to change the subject, and asked them what they did and how they knew each other.

"Well," Yuki started. "Speaking for myself, I'm a sophomore in college. I'm studying education. All of us go to the same university, but we actually don't know each other. Today was the first day we really met."

"I'm a sophomore, too," Barbara added. "I want to be an athletic trainer. And a yoga instructor, but that's just a hobby right now."

Peter nodded. "I dig it. That means we're all about the same age. But none of us ever tried to go to college."

"What do you do? I remember you said something about being musicians," Yuki asked. Her dark eyes were watching him curiously from behind cat-eye glasses. She always seemed to have a pleasant expression on her face. "What's a group of guys doing together in this cool little house by the beach?"

Peter opened his mouth to say: "We're the Monkees," but only got as far as the first syllable when three things happened:

The front door to the Pad opened and Mike, Davy and Micky walked in carrying three pizza boxes. There was a yell from behind the bedroom door that went like this: " _WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW WHO THEY ARE?!"_ And finally, the bedroom door burst open and Kath marched out, dragging a very annoyed and guilty-looking Melany behind her.

* * *

Tune in right now to find out what happens next.


	6. My Mom Likes Your Music

**Chapter Five: My Mom Likes Your Music**

All eyes were on Melany. Her face burning, she stayed quiet.

"Guys, Melany says she knows who they are," Kath gestured to the boys. "Like, she knew of them in our time."

The Monkees (for Melany knew that that was who they were) exchanged glances of equal parts confusion and suspicion.

Melany stepped forward. "Wait, there's a reasonable explanation for this." Everyone waited. "I, um, have all of your music on my iPhone."

Everyone exploded in conversation. Among the jumble, Melany heard:

"She knew the whole time?"

"Why didn't she say anything?"

"She digs our music?"

"Hang on – what's an eye-phone?"

But above the ruckus, Micky Dolenz's clear voice rang out as he looked at Melany, still holding the pizza: "Who are we, then?"

The group fell silent.

"You're the Monkees," she said. "A band. You play gigs for a living. My favorite song is Pleasant Valley Sunday."

At the last line, Mike's eyes narrowed. "Now that doesn't prove anything. Ya'll coulda learned about us by seeing a show or something. Not to mention we _said_ we were a band earlier."

"I believe 'em, Mike," Peter said quietly. Mike's face softened.

Melany nodded. "I know you already told us this. But I'm telling the truth: I grew up on your music, and I know most of your songs. When I was six and I couldn't sleep my mom would play 'Daydream Believer' for me."

The boys all exchanged looks at this; Daydream Believer, Melany knew, was not one of the songs they played regularly until near the end of this year. There was probably no way she would know the song.

"Why would someone from fifty years in the future know who we are?" Micky asked loudly. Suddenly, he froze, eyes growing wide.

Davy looked at him. "I can think of a couple ways." He was grinning.

"You mean – "

"We must have _made it_ ," Davy said, giving a whoop, before Micky cut him off.

"No, no, there's no proof they're even from the future." He walked over to the coffee table and set the pizza he was holding on top of it. "We don't know if what they're saying is true or what. Nah, man. It'd be really groovy if we did, but let's not get our hopes up over this yet."

He looked at the girls a little apologetically and added: "Not that I don't believe you ladies, but I'm just trying to be cautious."

Yuki nodded. "I understand. It's a bit of a crazy story."

"We'd still be alive, though," Davy said. "Old as the hills, but still around. Right?" He looked at Melany for reassurance. Her stomach dropped as she watched the young Davy Jones, face full of hope, wait for her answer.

"I don't want to say too much," she mumbled. "Only because it's time travel rule number one that you don't reveal too much about the specific lives of those you come into contact with. It could change everything for you. It's not good to know your own future."

Though they did not appear satisfied with the answer, she could tell that the boys sensed her discomfort. They didn't push the subject.

"Do the rest of you know us?" Davy asked, looking at the other three girls. They shook their heads.

"Why you, then?" Mike addressed Melany. She shrugged.

"My mom really likes your music and she played it for me growing up. Technically I'm too young to really know who you are, but I've always been a fan." She gave a small smile as she thought of her mother. She would be _so_ jealous that Melany was talking to the boy band crush of her youth.

Melany did not want to say anything else. She probably should have broken the news in a better way, but from the moment she had woken up to Micky's face above hers she had known, and it was nearly making her explode to not mention it to someone. However, she was reluctant for any more questions to be fielded her way, and gave a pleading look at the rest of the girls.

Kath stepped in. "I'm sorry for making a scene," she said. "It caught me off-guard. I probably shouldn't have said anything. Time travel etiquette is new to me."

"Well," said Mike, finally setting down his and Davy's pizzas next to Micky's, along with two six packs of Coca Cola, "I'm just as curious as I'm sure the rest of the fellas are to hear about the future of the Monkees, but I think we've had enough of this talk for one day."

The rest of the group nodded.

"Can we eat now?" Asked Peter. "Also, did you know they're all in college and Yuki wants to be a teacher and Melany wants to train athletes?"

The other boys smiled. Mike said,

"No I didn't. Now that's interesting. What about you two?"

As the others all gathered around the table and grabbed some pizza, the conversation turned as normal as a conversation could be between two groups of people half a century apart. The boys talked about their music, how they met and what they were doing now, and the girls began to open up more about their lives and interests back home.

As she was listening, Melany realized that this open, honest conversation might be all they needed to prove to the Monkees that they were trustworthy. Occasionally the girls would mention something like the 2016 Olympics, Beyonce, online classes and smart cars, and would then have to clarify, which prompted good discussion about where they were from. As they talked and ate, the boys seemed less doubtful.

About halfway through the meal, Melany noticed Mike looking at her. Whenever she caught his eye, he always glanced away, but she knew that he probably still had questions for her. She could tell that Peter believed them. And Davy was close – he really, really wanted to. Micky, surprisingly, seemed like he still doubted the most. But Mike? She couldn't get a read on him.

"This is the best pizza I've had in my life," Barbara said at one point, sighing contentedly. "Going back fifty years was worth it if the only thing I ever experience here is this pizza."

The boys laughed at her enthusiasm, but the rest of the girls agreed. It might have been the magic of the "first meal" in a new place, or the relief that normal communication was now occurring between the eight of them, but the butterflies of panic that Melany had been feeling since she woke up on the beach several hours ago were fading.

She looked around the group at the smiling faces of her favorite childhood band, and her new companions. The sound of the waves was coming in through the open windows and the sunset was painting them all in a calm, soft, orange light.

Maybe she would like it here.

* * *

What's Professor Darling up to back in 2016? Why don't you hang around for the next chapter to see!

Also, I love to chat. If you're feeling like leaving a review with any questions or suggestions, please do! It would absolutely make my day.


	7. Dishonorable Darling

**Chapter Six: Dishonorable Darling**

The moment the four girls vanished out of the time machine, Professor Jim Darling Jr. gave a cheer, throwing his fist into the air.

"It _worked!_ " He immediately turned on the recording software on his computer and spoke into the microphone. "The first human test has been a success. Barbara Fultz, Yuki Fredrick, Kath McConnell, and Melany Hugh have been transported to Malibu, California, nineteen sixty-seven."

He turned on the lights, and left the machine running as he dashed off to his office.

Upon entering the room, he opened the top drawer in his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and an envelope. He picked up the pen and began to write in script shaky from excitement:

 _Jim –_

 _It has worked. I sent four girls back for the final test. Included in this envelope are their photographs. Please keep an eye on them if you can, and measure their health and relationship to the Monkees, whom they will most likely come into contact with based upon the proximity of where I sent them._

He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, and thought through his plan. Truthfully, he had doubted that he would ever get far enough along to send more than letters to his younger self.

His idea had been to eventually build a device that would allow him to join his younger self in 1967, not too long after the Monkees' final rejection that sealed his fate with his father's company. With the knowledge of the future Monkees' success, Jim knew getting them to sign into his company would save his career.

Though he had missed out the first time around, he was confident that he could convince the boys to do his bidding with a bit of blackmail from their future lives. In the folder he planned to take with him were photos of their children, not even thought of back then, that he could use to threaten them into doing what he wanted. Jim was not above nefarious means to win the Monkees, and he was confident that there would be no way the band could refuse. He would have his success, even if he had to travel back fifty years to get it. He continued writing:

 _I have ways to extort the Monkees into signing. However, if they befriend these women, do not interfere with the friendship. They could become useful later on._

 _-Jim_

* * *

Next time on Stuck in the Sixties: Davy flirts with someone, there's girl talk at the beach, and new bonds are made between strangers. WHAT COULD BE BETTER?!


	8. First Impressions

**Chapter Seven: First Impressions**

Yuki awoke to the sound of waves for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. The bedroom that the four girls had graciously been given was on the side of the house closest to the sea, and the rhythmic thundering could be faintly heard through the one small window. She sat up, glanced at the clock (8:14 AM), stretched, and looked at her new friends. Kath and herself had camped out on the floor, while Barbara and Melany got the two beds.

They had tried to ask about where to find a hotel, as the combination of her instinct not to trust strangers and her fear of over staying her welcome battled with the Monkees' hospitality. But, in the end, they gave in to the boy's insistence that they need not go searching for a place to stay, at least for that night.

Her eyes fell on Kath, who was beginning to stir next to her. The freckle-faced girl's eyes opened, looking very blue in the sunlight coming in through the window.

"Are we back in the science lab?" Her voice was hoarse form a night of disuse. Yuki watched her sit up and look around the room. "I guess not."

"You don't sound too disappointed."

Kath shrugged. "I like them."

She felt a smile form on her lips. "Me, too."

As Kath left to get ready in the nearby bathroom, the other two girls began to wake.

A short while later, after everyone was dressed, they made their way into the kitchen to discover that Davy and Mike were already there, frantically opening and closing the cupboards and the refrigerator.

"Good morning," Yuki greeted. The boys wheeled around, eyes wide.

"Morning," They said in unison.

"Something wrong?" Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you forget we were here?"

Mike sighed. "No, but we're out of milk. Actually, we're out of everything except Rice Krispies and three pieces of pizza."

"We might need to run to the store before breakfast," Davy added.

Yuki smiled. "That's fine."

"Let's make Micky and Peter do it," Davy suggested. Mike nodded and then hollered:

"MICK-Y, PE-TER! C'MERE!"

Yuki watched as the two boys stumbled out of the upstairs bedroom door and leaned over the railing, still clad in brightly colored pajama sets.

"What is it, Mike?" Peter asked, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing an orange hat that matched his pajamas.

Micky yawned loudly. "Yeah man, I was having this groovy dream, too. I'd like to finish it if it's all the same…"

"Come on man," Mike said with a roll of his eyes. "It's almost nine. You two should be awake and we need you to go get milk for breakfast."

This was met with groans of protest.

"Now, now, Davy and I have to stay here because I'm going to make coffee and Davy, well – "

"I just really don't wanna go." Davy shrugged. The girls giggled.

Mike heaved a sigh.

"I'll go with you," Melany said, looking up at the two sleepy young men. "I wanna see the neighborhood."

Peter smiled and Micky said through another yawn: "All right, if quiet brown-haired girl whose mother likes us is going, I'll do it. Let's go, Pete."

They began to walk downstairs when Davy called: "Don't you think you'd better get dressed first?"

Without missing a beat they both began walking backward back up the spiral staircase and into their room, slamming the door shut.

"Is this an everyday occurrence?" Yuki asked.

Davy and Mike looked at each other.

"Pretty much," they said together.

The girls took a seat at the table to wait, except Kath, who was looking around the kitchen.

"Did you say something about coffee?" She turned to Mike, hope ringing in every syllable.

Mike nodded. "That's the one thing we don't ever run out of here, no matter how tight money is."

Yuki then realized that the lack of food might not be because of carelessness. This was a house on the coast in California. These were four musicians who had not mentioned having any other means of income besides gigs, and from what she could tell they were not, at this point in their careers, exceptionally successful or famous. Perhaps money was a bit of an issue for them.

Kath appeared to be very interested in the process of making coffee in something other than a twenty-first century automatic coffee maker, so Mike let her follow him around the kitchen, observing the process. The other three girls joined Davy at the table.

"Did you ladies sleep well?" He asked.

The three of them nodded.

"Even on the floor?"

"Even on the floor," Kath said from across the kitchen. "You have an exceptionally comfortable floor."

"Probably that shag carpeting that's so popular in this decade," Melany muttered to Barbara. Yuki fought back a laugh at her deadpan delivery.

At that moment, Micky and Peter walked down the stairs, this time fully dressed in something other than pajamas, though just as eccentric. Yuki marveled at the two-tone red and blue pants that Peter was wearing with a floral shirt and Melany stood up to follow them.

"Ready, Melany?"

She nodded.

"Are you _sure_?" Micky said cautiously. "Because getting milk from the store around the corner is one wild ride."

Melany raised her eyebrows. "Is it now?"

"Yeah, it's a trip," Micky said, while Peter just looked confused.

"Mick, it's really not that big of a deal."

Micky sighed, his sarcastic conversation broken. "I know, man. It was just a joke."

"Oh…"

"Isn't that dumb?" Mike muttered to Kath.

Micky opened the door. A sign next to it read MONEY IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL.

As they were walking out, Davy called after them: "Maybe you can get her to tell you more about how famous we are in fifty years!"

Melany's eyes narrowed and she quickly pulled the door shut without saying anything. Davy turned back to the two girls sitting in front of him, grinning.

"I'm only joking, I know she doesn't want to say anything," he said, stretching his arms above his head.

"She's pretty quiet," Yuki replied. "We have one other class together this semester, an upper-level anthropology course, and she's really smart, but she never talks in class."

"That's her major isn't it?" Barbara asked. Yuki nodded.

"She wants to be an archaeologist, so I suppose anthropology is pretty important."

"Melany's the archaeologist, you're the teacher," Davy pointed to Yuki. "Kath is – " he paused and she turned around.

"Counselor, writer, something with social work, maybe. I don't know yet."

"—Counselor, writer slash social worker, and Miss Barbara…" Yuki could swear that she saw his eyes sparkle a little bit when he turned them on to the girl sitting next to her.

Barbara grinned. "Athletic trainer."

"You certainly have the figure for it," he noticeably checked her out (or as much of her as he could as they were sitting at the table) and Yuki sighed internally.

She expected a harsh retort from Barbara, who had proven herself to be very outspoken (and also much more of a person than just her body, no matter how good-looking it was), but instead saw her blush.

"I try," she said airily. "It's a work in progress."

"I'd say it's a masterpiece, myself."

"Davy, would you cool it already?" Mike suddenly called from across the kitchen. Kath was leaning on the counter beside him, laughing. "She's your guest for cryin' out loud."

Davy sat back in his chair, hands raised in defeat. "I'm just wooing a beautiful woman, Mike, there's no need to – "

"Cut it out and drink some coffee," Mike muttered as he and Kath walked back to the table. He set the silver pitcher of coffee down in front of them and Kath followed with five cups.

Barbara immediately poured one for herself and Yuki saw her wink at Davy across the table. "You know, I don't mind," she said offhandedly. "Happens all the time, really."

Mike whistled. "Oh, ho, ho! Maybe you two will get along after all, then."

Davy laughed.

"He does this a lot, then?" Yuki asked with a grin.

Mike and Davy nodded solemnly.

"It's an everyday occurrence."

"So what's the plan for today?" Kath asked after taking a sip of coffee. "Oh wow, this is excellent, Mike."

Mike glowed.

"We have a gig tonight," Davy spoke up, pouring himself a cup. "And unless you four wanna hang around here figuring out how to get back to twenty-sixteen," his voice still held traces of skepticism, "you are more than welcome to come with us."

"That sounds wonderful," Barbara said, clapping her hands. "I want to hear these infamous Monkees in action."

Yuki did as well. "Where's your gig?"

"It's at this little club downtown called The Little Club Downtown," Mike replied. "It's a pretty neat place. Should be a good crowd."

"I'm excited," Kath added. "Wow, my first concert in nineteen sixty-seven!"

At that moment, the door opened and Peter, Micky and Melany returned with a gallon of milk. Peter set it down on the table and Melany handed each of the girls a toothbrush.

"Figured we'd make a more extensive shopping list later, but this just jumped out at me," she said, taking a seat next to Mike and reaching for the coffee.

"God bless Melany," Kath said, making the sign of the cross. Melany smirked.

"Yeah, thanks Mel," Yuki added.

"We were just talking about going to their gig tonight," Barbara filled Melany in as the boys fetched the cereal and bowls for each of them.

Melany nodded. "So were we. I'm down. Obviously," she added, referencing her pre-time-travel-fangirl status.

Yuki didn't know her all that well, but she watched as Melany spoke and could tell that there was something a little different about her. Her usual monotone response held some other kind of twinge to it, like she was holding back intense excitement, masking it behind her usual soft, quiet demeanor.

They finalized concert plans, with a departure time set for five PM, and then, over crackling bowls of Rice Krispies, Yuki politely raised the idea that, apart from the clothes the boys had so graciously shared with them and the toothbrushes that Melany had purchased, they had no other material possessions.

"It might be in our best interests to take a short shopping trip," she said. "Since we don't know how long we'll be here yet."

"And we don't really know each other very well," Kath added. "All eight of us basically met for real on the same day."

"We should take a little time to get to know each other," Barbara said, nodding.

"Maybe, while you're all getting ready, we go explore and pick up a few things?" Yuki suggested.

The boys exchanged looks and shrugs. "Sounds good to us."

So, after breakfast was finished, the girls left the Monkees to rehearse for their gig, and hit the town.

With Melany's guidance, they made it out of the little neighborhood that boys lived in, onto a busier street that followed the beach. Melany explained that there was a drugstore a few blocks away that they had taken her to, but the actual main street, with more shopping options, was about a fifteen-minute walk away.

It wasn't until the girls were strolling down the street that it finally hit Yuki that there _was_ no denying it; they actually, one-hundred-percent, were in 1967. The cars, the décor outside houses, advertisements on the sides of buildings, billboards, and clothes of every passer-by continued to reinforce what the boys had told them yesterday.

"It's odd not seeing anyone with headphones in," Kath mused.

"Or texting," added Melany.

"This is real, huh?" Barbara asked. The smile she seemed to perpetually have on her face faded a bit.

Yuki was struck with the absolute loneliness of their situation. They were the only people out of place in this time, in this city.

"I feel a bit trapped," Yuki admitted.

"Well, we _are_ trapped," Melany said, not unkindly. "We're more stuck than I've ever been before."

"Also, I don't think it's helping that we really don't know each other from a hole in the ground," Kath said. "Before we get hairbrushes or deodorant, I think we need to get a better picture of who we are. Because like it or not, we're all we have and we're in this together."

This made Yuki feel a bit better, and she smiled. "Good idea. Wanna go down to the beach and talk for a while?"

The other girls also thought this was a good idea, and they veered off the seaside sidewalk, abandoning their quest into town temporarily, and slid down the sandy hill toward the ocean.

Barbara pointed up ahead. "How about over there? There's some shade and rocks to sit on."

They followed her and made themselves as comfortable as possible on the large stones, Yuki immediately soothed by the waves that lapped lightly around her rock, splashing her feet. She gazed out at the Pacific Ocean and felt a little less trapped.

"Okay," Kath said. "Who wants to start?"

"I'll go," Barbara said. "Hello, my name is Barbara Renee Fultz, I am nineteen years old, I'm not from Indiana because I just go to school there. I'm actually from Ohio."

Melany interrupted. "I'm from Ohio, too. I live in Dayton."

"Columbus," Barbara grinned. "Let's hang out when we get back to the future, we're not too far apart. What about you two?"

"Washington for my childhood, but more recently Michigan," Kath jumped in. "Traverse City area."

"I moved to Indianapolis after my parents divorced, but I grew up in Montana," Yuki replied.

The conversation continued in a similar vein for the next hour, as each of the girls took turns speaking about her life. Barbara had two older brothers and knew how to scuba dive. Kath, the oldest of the group at age 22 ½ (beating Melany by _just_ three months), loved to cook and had been adopted by her last pair of foster parents at age sixteen. Melany had been to ten countries and made sushi on a regular basis. Yuki shared that her mother had been born and raised in Japan, and though Yuki herself knew only little Japanese, she had been there nine times throughout her life.

Their conversation turned to school at Malcom University, and they talked about any other classes that they might have had together, any mutual friends between them, and tried to figure out something else that all four of them had in common.

"I think the only thing we all share is an equal struggle with Chemistry and a lack of Friday night plans yesterday evening," Kath said, and that was the end of it.

Eventually, the conversation reached a natural lull and the girls fell into comfortable silence.

"I'm just speaking for myself, here," Barbara said eventually, crossing her legs on top of her rock. "But I feel a lot better about you three now."

Yuki leaned back on her hands. "You're all quite interesting."

"More interesting than I thought," Melany muttered, though she was smiling.

"Well I'm sorry that I haven't been to the Czech Republic, Melany – " Kath said sarcastically. The girls laughed.

"Ready to go to the store?" Yuki asked.

The girls headed back up the side of the beach toward the street and made their way to first a drugstore to purchase toiletries and then, after a short discussion, a department store. The trunk that the boys had shared, though full of options, lacked women's undergarments, and the time travelers decided that more than one set was necessary.

"Do you guys feel like you're in a foreign country?" Yuki asked, as they headed toward a restaurant across the street from the department store for lunch.

"A little bit," Melany said. "But everyone speaks English."

"Everything is just a _little_ bit off, though. And everything is so much more inexpensive than I'm used to." Barbara peeked inside her shopping bag.

"And the lingo. The slang," Kath said, shaking her head. "I'm having a bit of a problem there, too."

"What, you don't dig it, groovy babe?" Barbara said, bursting into laughter. "I'm trying, too, but it's hard."

"We haven't even been here twenty-four hours, though. I think we can cut ourselves some slack," Yuki rolled her eyes.

The entered the restaurant, a little place called Caroline's, and ordered sandwiches and iced teas, and in Melany's case, a cherry Coke.

The atmosphere of the place was cozy; black and white pictures of the California coast adorned the walls, and the chairs around the tables alternated between yellow and purple throughout the small café.

When the waitress dropped off their food, Barbara spoke:

"Guys, wait. Before we eat, we need to agree that by the end of this meal we handle the question you _know_ we've been avoiding all morning."

The rest of the girls looked at her. Melany stopped, a chip halfway to her mouth.

"What are we going to do about the Monkees?"

* * *

Stay tuned for Chapter Eight, when we discover what the guys think about the girls AND the mysterious last name of their professor.


	9. Decisions

**Chapter Eight: Decisions**

The moment the four time travelers left the Pad and the door clicked shut behind them, the boys exploded into conversation, talking over each other.

"What are we going to do about them?"

"Are they staying here forever?"

"Should we be doing anything else?"

"I can't believe we didn't have any milk!"

"Did Barbara mention having a boyfriend or anything?"

"Now hold on," Mike said, raising his hands to quiet everyone down. "Let's figure this out one step at a time."

They were suddenly seated at a long table in the living room, Mike at the head of the table, gavel in hand. He slammed it down. Micky wondered for a moment how that always happened, but shrugged it off as Mike spoke.

"First: What do ya'll think of them today? Telling the truth, or not?" Mike asked.

Peter: "Yes."

Davy: "Eh, I think so."

Micky hesitated. "I don't know, fellas." He caught Mike looking at him funny.

"Why not, Mick? This seems like something you'd totally dig."

Micky shrugged. "It's just so crazy. That one girl knew who we were, they talked about all this stuff that I'd never heard of, and last night Kath looked at me really funny, sort of like she knew me, but not, because she _said_ she didn't and it just – "

"Sounds like you're just a little scared of it, Micky," Peter cut off his rambling.

"Or you dig Kath," Davy smirked.

"I'm not scared, it's just too ridiculous to be real," he said. "Aliens, vampires, magic monkey paws…all that makes sense to me. But _time travel_?" He looked at the other three.

"Time travel is where you draw the line, really?" Davy raised his eyebrows.

Micky fell silent. Maybe he _was_ just a little bit uncomfortable with it all. They were perfectly nice girls, funny and easygoing. They hadn't given them any reason to believe that they weren't being honest.

"Fine, yeah. I believe them," he said finally. A weird sense of relief spread through him as he realized it was true.

Peter smiled. "And I think Kath digs you, too."

"Nah, she digs Mike," Micky said with a shake of his head.

"For cryin' out loud, we've known them for twelve hours!" Mike said, exasperatedly.

"Well, what about you, Mike?" Micky asked. "Do you believe them?" Mike scratched his head.

"I dunno, man. I think so. What really gets me is their professor's name, the one who sent them here. They said it was Darling." He looked at Davy, who nodded.

"You don't think he's related to Jim at all," Micky said. "There's no way."

"Yeah it would be a bit of stretch, Mike. The world isn't _that_ small." Davy added.

"And he's in Indiana fifty years from now," Peter piped up. "Why would Jim move to Indiana?"

Mike paused. "But he'd be an old man in two thousand sixteen, like they said, _and_ Jim's been MIA ever since he stormed out on us. I need to talk to that Melany chick about him."

"So do you believe them?" Micky asked again. Mike was good at avoiding questions.

Mike paused, and then nodded. "I do." He slammed the gavel down. "Okay, that's settled. Three yeses on the 'Are they telling the truth' front."

"Yes," Three voices chorused.

"Next item of business…"

"What are we gonna _do_ with them?" Micky asked. "I mean, I'm fine with four pretty girls living in our house but they're strangers, and homeless, and possibly crazy…" His voice trailed off.

All four boys fell silent. Mike played with the gavel in his hands, deep in thought.

Peter said, "I know, let's just talk to them about it when they get back and see what they think. Maybe they would want to stay here. They could help with the rent?"

The other three boys perked up at this. The rent was a real issue, and they did not have nearly enough gigs last month to cover all their expenses.

"Also," Peter continued. "Did you guys hear Barbara and Kath mention that they like to cook? Maybe we could eat something besides Rice Krispies and PB and J's everyday."

The other three were very vocal in their agreement on this point, as they were all horrible cooks, not matter how much they tried.

"It sounds a bit silly," Davy said after a moment. "But I almost feel a bit responsible for them, y'know?"

"Since we found them?" asked Mike. "Yeah. I do, too."

"Yeah," said Micky. "And they were so out of it. But I s'pose anyone would be, being tossed back in time."

"They're all alone and have nothing. I wouldn't feel right kicking them out." Peter sighed. "And also, the food."

"They _are_ perfectly nice, respectable girls from what we've seen so far," Mike began, slowly raising the gavel.

"And we could use some rent money," Davy leaned forward, looking hopefully at the other two. Peter nodded vigorously.

"If it ends up not working out, we can change it," he said simply. "I say we offer them a room." He looked at Micky.

"You don't have to convince me," he said.

All eyes fell back on Mike. He slammed the gavel down.

"All right, fellas, we might have some new roommates. And we might need to do a bit of spying on Mr. Jim Darling."

* * *

So, all this time you may have been wondering: What universe is this? Is the Monkees a TV show or nah? Or is this real life? Well, Melany has been wondering this, too. Click next to find out more.


	10. We May Be Comin' to Your Town

**Chapter Nine: We May Be Comin' To Your Town (Or Vice Versa)**

Back in Caroline's over turkey club sandwiches and second helpings of potato chips, the girls were having a similar conversation about what they should do.

"First of all," Barbara took charge, assuming a "Mike-like" role, "Do you three trust these guys? I know it's only been a short time, but I think it's been long enough to get a pretty good read on them."

Yuki: "They're very polite and kind. Yes, I trust them."

Kath: "They took us in, even though we were four strange girls passed out on a beach claiming to be from the future. They can't be all bad. I trust them."

Melany: "They turned out okay fifty years from now, so I trust them, too."

Barbara nodded. "I'm with all you guys. I know we're not supposed to trust strangers, but honestly, what other option do we have at this point?"

The other girls shrugged.

"But I don't want to impose on them anymore," Yuki said. "Let's see if they know of any place that we could stay. Maybe someone is renting."

"You want to proceed as though we're here for a while, then?" Barbara asked. They fell silent.

"I think we should," Kath spoke up eventually. "Unless you have time machine blueprints that we can work with to get back."

"We _are_ stuck," Yuki said, repeating her earlier statement.

"What kills me is _why_ ," Barbara said. Exasperation and frustration were building inside her. " _Why_ did he send us here?"

She knew that nobody knew the answer. All of them were upset; it was like they pretended all morning that this was an exciting day at the beach with new friends, but reality had hit Barbara, as she knew it had with the rest of the girls. There was nothing they could do to help themselves. They could only live, and it was up to them to decide upon how much they would try to make this place their home, be it temporary or permanent.

"Since it's pointless to continue to talk in circles about our situation," Kath began, gently changing the subject. "I have an idea: how about we pick up some food and cook a meal for the guys as a thank you for their help. I know they have that gig tonight, but maybe we could do it tomorrow."

Barbara perked up. " _YES_. That's a great idea, Kath!"

They discussed the menu, and decided on salmon, vegetables, Kath's homemade macaroni and cheese and Barbara's family's chocolate cake recipe was where they would start.

After the meal plan was finalized and Kath had hastily scribbled a grocery list onto a napkin, Barbara turned to Melany.

"Can you explain again how you know who they are, Mel? Should I know them? They're from the same time as the Beatles, right? Which is, well, now I guess."

"Yeah, I have this vague idea that I _should_ know who they are." Kath tapped the pen against her chin thoughtfully.

"The Monkees…" Yuki tested out the name. "Doesn't ring a bell for me."

Melany sighed. "I just want to warn you guys about something first," she began. The girls looked at her with rapt attention. "We're in kind of a precarious position, here. Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect?"

"Isn't it something along the lines of small things can effect big things?" Kath asked.

Melany nodded. "Yeah, amall changes can have huge effects, basically. Think of any time travel movie or TV show you've seen. It's rule number one that you don't try to change the way things work out, because that can have an effect on something else."

"I thought you said rule number one was don't tell people about their futures," Barbara said.

"Oh yeah. Well, they're both important."

"So what are you saying?" Yuki asked. "That you're not going to tell us about them?"

"No, I'm just saying that we need to be careful. We're not supposed to be here. We're out of place. At least, I think we are. Unless part of their lives _is_ us interacting with them…" she looked confused by her own statement. "Anyway, all this to say, don't talk about how they become super famous _too_ much, just in case that would alter anything they do here."

"How famous are they?" Kath leaned forward. "Is there _any_ way I might know them? I just have this really weird feeling that I should."

Melany cleared her throat and began to sing softly. " _Here we come…walking down the street…we get the funniest looks from everyone we meet_ – "

"Oh my _god_!" Barbara screeched. "I know that song! My aunt used to sing that all the time when I was little!" Memories of Aunt Harriet making coffee and singing that funny old song in the kitchen of Barbara's childhood home on Saturday mornings flooded her mind.

Kath looked at Yuki, who shrugged. "Nothing," they said together. Kath shrugged and popped a chip into her mouth.

"Wait, did they have a TV show?" Barbara said. "I'm pretty sure that was the theme song."

"This is where we come to a problem," Melany said, folding her hands in front of her. "Because, according to the future that we are from, yes, they did have a TV show."

"So?"

"So, the show is about the Monkees, a group of struggling musicians living in a house by the beach, who are trying to make it big, and crazy things happen to them all the time and it really doesn't make a whole lot of sense," Melany said.

"Kinda sounds like the life they're living now," Yuki said.

"Exactly. But that's the problem: the TV show wasn't about their real lives. They were actually a made-for-TV band. They didn't know each other until after they had all auditioned for the part and got the roles."

"Kind of like us, minus the time travel," Yuki muttered.

Kath set down her sandwich. "Hang on, they told us yesterday how they all met. They've been a band for a couple of years, now. They came together organically."

"That's what's confusing me," Melany said excitedly. "I can't figure it out. It's like we went back in time, into their TV show. The house they're living in is the same as the set, they've mentioned things in passing that I know about from the episodes, and I haven't seen a single camera anywhere."

"So are we on their show, or is this real life?" Barbara asked finally. Melany shrugged.

"I have no idea. But this isn't the life of the Monkees that I know to be real."

"Parallel universe?" Kath offered.

"Maybe."

"Impossible," Yuki murmured. "But all the same…"

"We _did_ time travel yesterday. Nothing's impossible."

Barbara was confused about this little detail, especially having remembered that the Monkees had a theme song, and that she _knew_ it. Somehow, though, she realized that it didn't really matter.

"All we know for sure is that we're here, and this is real." She said. She looked at the rest of the girls, and then off into another direction, as if directing her question toward an invisible audience. "Right?"

"Let's worry about this later, if it's even a thing to worry about," Melany said finally. "But this is the kind of thing we shouldn't mention to them. I think it would make everything ten times more confusing than it already is for us."

"Agreed."

"I wonder if Professor Darling is going to come back to this place, too." Yuki took a sip of iced tea.

"I'm still trying to decide if he did this for a malicious reason or not," Kath said. "I know I talked to Melany about this yesterday, but did you guys notice the look Davy and Mike had when we mentioned Professor Darling's name?"

The girls shook their heads, so Melany and Kath recounted their thoughts about it.

"Let's add that on the list of things to talk to them about," Barbara said. She was very doubtful that it was the same person – what were the odds? But it was fair to ask.

By this time, they had all finished their lunch, and, apart from the confusing detail about which version of reality they were living in, Barbara felt much better.

"Good job, ladies," she smiled, folding up her napkin. "Now let's go grocery shopping."

* * *

A short chapter about trust, roommates and rehearsals is next. SEE YOU THEN.


	11. Rehearsals and Roommates

**Chapter Ten: Rehearsals and Roommates**

Around 3:30, the girls made it back to the Monkees' house, somehow managing to carry all of their purchases with them. Kath's arms were burning as she set down a handful of bags to turn the doorknob. Kicking her way inside, she realized that music was coming from the back of the room.

She looked back excitedly at the other three girls behind her, and jerked her head in the direction of the sound. As they stepped inside the door, they saw that the boys were standing in the alcove near the porch, playing their instruments and singing.

Kath hurriedly dropped her bags off near the staircase, and Yuki ran to put the food in the kitchen. The boys had noticed their entrance; as the song they had walked in on ended, Davy called out:

"This next one is for our resident time travelers." They struck up another tune. The girls exchanged grins and made their way to the couches, turning some of the chairs so they faced the raised alcove, setting the room up like seats in front of a stage.

Kath realized that there was no way these boys shouldn't be famous; they were _good_. She looked at Melany, who had an expression of unbridled joy on her face.

"What song is this, Mel?" Kath whispered.

"'Pleasant Valley Sunday,'" she said.

"Your favorite."

Melany nodded happily.

Before the beginning of the next several songs they played, one of the boys would announce the title. Kath especially liked "A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You." The four girls were captivated by their music for the next fifteen minutes. When they finally stopped, the room burst into applause.

"Thank you, thank you," they said, Micky bowing over-dramatically. They all stepped down to join the girls on the couches. After a moment of pleasantries, the girls explained the conclusions they had drawn back in Caroline's, what their plans were regarding a place to live, and the next direction they were going.

The boys all exchanged a look after Yuki finished asking about renters. Kath saw their eyes dart over to the table, on which was probably more food than they'd seen in their kitchen for a long time. They put their heads together, whispered back and forth inaudibly, and then looked up at the girls and spoke in unison:

"Do you want to be our roommates?"

Kath was completely thrown off.

"Huh?"

"Well, things don't usually open up around here for renting until August, and that's little while from now," Mike began.

"And we could use the help with rent, to be honest." Peter spoke up.

"It _would_ be a lot cheaper if all of us went in on it together," Yuki said thoughtfully.

"We've had boarders in the past," Mike continued. "And we're all sure you'd be better than any of them."

"Even if you might be crazy," Micky crossed his arms.

"We're willing to risk it," Davy added.

Kath nudged Barbara. "Those two don't believe us." She muttered, and Barbara nodded.

"We do," Micky and Davy said hurriedly.

Kath raised her eyebrows. "Really? You didn't seem so keen on the idea yesterday. Or five hours ago."

"We all had a heart-to-heart," Mike said flatly. "Don't worry ladies, we're all on the same page now. We trust you."

Kath felt relief spread through her. She hadn't realized until then how much it had been worrying her.

"What about you four?" Peter asked. "You think we're all right?"

"We had a heart-to-heart as well," she said with a smile. "And yes, we do."

Barbara looked over at the other three girls. "Does this mean we're saying yes to their offer? I've always lived with a lot of roommates, so I'm okay with it."

Yuki shrugged. "Seems like a good idea to me, especially with the rent thing."

Kath nodded. "I dig."

Melany sighed. "I'll give it a shot."

Barbara turned back to the guys. "Then it's settled."

As they all shook hands, Kath looked into each of the boy's faces and saw that they were genuinely pleased with the outcome of the conversation. It was strange; she had known them for less than a day and was already moving in with them, but it didn't seem like a bad idea at all. She looked around the room – her new home, at least for now, and exchanged smiles with the other girls.

"Welcome to the family."

* * *

In the next chapter, the Monkees encounter modern technology and they also play a gig. What could be better?!

Also, thank you to the newest follower, cheshirekadi! I appreciate you!


	12. Phones and Fans

**Chapter Eleven: Phones and Fans**

"I don't think this is going to work…"

"No, no! If we just move the guitar over here – "

"Mmm, nope. That's not happenin'."

"Davy, can you hold this for a second, babe?"

"Mick, it's not gonna fit there. We've gotta hang this up."

Melany watched, slightly amused, as the Monkees tried to pack up their gear in the Pontiac GTO in such a way that would allow them to carry four extra passengers. It was not going well.

"Listen, we really appreciate the offer, boys, but we can take a bus, or walk –"

Mike cut Yuki off mid-sentence. "Wait! I think we've been going at it all wrong."

The other three stopped, looking at him. Micky dropped a drumstick. Kath leaned over to pick it up.

"Thanks, Freckles," he said as she handed it to him.

"No problem, Curls," she replied with a smirk.

Mike continued. "We have to get in _first_. And _then_ we load up. We can hold everything."

Davy and Peter exchanged dubious glances.

"Whatever you say, Mike."

So they climbed inside after fitting everything they could into the trunk (which remained slightly ajar), and sat, four across the back with Barbara on Davy's lap. Mike, Melany and Peter, the remaining three, handed them guitars and then slid into the front seat.

"Outta sight," Micky muttered from underneath a guitar case.

"Good thinking, Mike," Peter said happily from the front.

Mike, looking pleased, started up the car and they pulled out of the driveway. Wind whipping her hair out of its braid, Melany turned to Peter.

"So, why is it that you were so quick to trust us?" Based upon what she knew of the boys' TV personalities, it made sense that Peter would be the first one to believe their story, but she wanted to know why.

Peter shrugged. Nonchalantly, he said: "Just had a good vibe from you. You all seem like real people. Also, I saw that thing you have in your pocket."

From the back of the car:

" _WHAT?_ "

Melany felt the heat rush into her face and stammered, "W-what thing?"

Peter pointed to her left pocket. "That thing. The silver rectangle. I saw you holding it up on our walk to the store earlier today when you thought nobody was looking."

"Melany, what do you have?" Barbara, the only member of the group in the back who could move, leaned forward.

"It's, um, just my wallet—"

But Barbara, personal space abandoned, had reached over and slipped Melany's iPhone 6 out of her pocket before she could prevent it.

"You had an iPhone this _whole time_?" Kath exclaimed, leaning around Micky, who had her crushed against the car door.

"Mel, we could have used that to demonstrate to them that we were from a place with future technology," Yuki said, disbelief in her voice.

"I know, I just…the butterfly effect…" Melany discovered that she was not able to articulate her thoughts the way she wanted to, though they made sense to her. "I didn't know what kind of effect releasing something like this into this year would have. I was only trying to be careful."

"Wait, Professor Darling said no electronics when he loaded us up in that machine," Barbara began.

"Yeah. I don't have a healthy respect for authority," Melany shrugged. Mike snorted.

"No need to get bent about it. What is it?" Davy asked, snatching out of Barbara's hands.

"Is it one of those cassette tapes?" Micky asked, reaching for it. "Or maybe it's some kind of spy recording device from the fuuuuutre."

"Close," Melany muttered. "It's a mixture of all those things. It's a cell phone."

"A phone? No way," Mike turned his head around to catch a glimpse of it. "Where are the numbers? How do you dial anything?"

"I'll show you when we get there."

"The cord is invisible." Micky stated, as though this was a perfectly acceptable explanation.

"What were you doing with it earlier?" asked Peter. "You certainly weren't talking to anyone."

"I was taking pictures," Melany replied.

"Hang on," Davy interjected. "I thought it was a phone. Tell it like it is."

Yuki laughed. "She is telling it like it is. It's both. And it plays music, too."

"For crying out loud," Mike mumbled from next to Melany, turning onto the next road. "This is too much."

"Any doubts now, fellas?" Peter asked Davy and Micky from the front.

Davy and Micky were suddenly dressed in full Sherlock Holmes and John Watson costumes, complete with a false pipe hanging out of the corner of Micky's mouth.

"What do you think, Holmes?" Davy asked.

"Well, Watson," Micky replied in a false English accent, taking the pipe out of his mouth thoughtfully. "How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?"

"Pretty darn often, Holmes," Davy replied.

"Then there you have it, these young ladies are in fact, from two thousand and sixteen. No other explanation." Micky snapped his fingers and suddenly their clothing was back to normal.

"How did you – " Barbara began. Melany was a little confused, but brushed off the strange situation as Micky spoke again, still looking at her phone.

"I wish you woulda showed us this earli – woo!" Micky yelped in surprise. He had pressed the button on the top, bringing the black, lifeless screen into brightness. "What is this magic?"

"A lithium-ion battery," Kath said.

"Hey, don't use that future lingo around me." Micky quipped, pulling a face.

"We're here, gang," Mike had pulled into the back parking lot of a row of buildings off the main road. Immediately, the group spilled out of the car.

"Thank God," Yuki said, stretching as she stepped away from the car. "That was a pretty cramped ride."

"You're tellin' me," Davy replied. "Can't feel my legs."

"Sorry," Barbara said, but she was smiling.

"Don't be." He winked.

"My _god_ ," Kath said, as exasperated as Melany felt. Micky leaned over and whispered something to her, causing her to laugh.

"What did he say?" Davy asked. Kath shrugged.

"Nothin'."

"Let's get unloaded." Peter interrupted. The rest of the crew each grabbed something and headed in the back door of The Little Club Downtown. The girls enthusiastically helped the boys set up on the stage in the back of the club and watched as they sound checked and tuned up. As the evening drew closer, more employees arrived and the bartender opened up, the girls settled around a table in the back.

"I think they're more popular than I realized," Yuki mused, her eyes on the group of girls that had just walked up to the Monkees, all smiles and batting eyelashes. More audience members and club goers were slowly arriving. As the sun began heading down in the sky and the Monkees began playing, the place filled up. The empty space in the middle of the tables and in front of the stage was full of dancing groups of girls, couples swaying together, and people grooving to the Monkees' music.

"Who's your favorite?" Barbara asked as they watched the band.

Melany inwardly rolled her eyes at Barbara's comment. She was transfixed by hearing them perform live again. There was so much more to these men than their attractiveness, and no favorites should be chosen. Although, she seemed unable to take her eyes off of Mike Nesmith as he sang "Love is Only Sleeping" with so much emotion her heart was actually aching.

"Barbara, really?" Kath reprimanded. "We've known them a day." Melany glanced over at her and noticed that she, too, could not seem to look away. She absentmindedly pulled a tube of red lipstick from her pocket and applied it flawlessly, without aid of a mirror.

Barbara shrugged. "I'm sure they each have a favorite of us."

Yuki's eyes narrowed from behind her glasses. "No they don't!"

"Just speculating."

"Kath, how did you do that?" Yuki asked.

"Hm?" Kath turned away from the stage. "Do what?"

"You just put red lipstick on without looking at your reflection and it's perfect."

Kath smiled. "Thanks. I've perfected the art."

"You're an inspiration," Barbara said, slow clapping.

Kath did a mock-bow, and the Monkees finished their song. Immediately "Let's Dance On" began.

"Let's not give up trying to figure out a way back home," Melany said thoughtfully as she watched groups of girls shake and twist as close to the boys as they could get without actually climbing on stage. "Maybe we could find something at the spot where we woke up that could help us."

"Like what, a clue?" Kath asked. She held up a magnifying glass to her eye. "Hang on. Where did this come from?"

"I like that idea. It's better than passively waiting," Barbara jumped in. "Oh wow – look at that super stud over there." She pointed nonchalantly across the room at a table in the corner where a dark-haired man sat, alone, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. Melany agreed, he certainly _was_ attractive. He looked older than they were, with dark curly hair, and rectangular glasses, and spectacular stubble. He looked right at them and Barbara winked before turning away.

"And all this time I thought you were into Davy," Yuki teased, shaking her head.

"I'm into a lot of people," Barbara replied airily, smoothing her skirt and flicking curls over her shoulder.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Barbara?" Kath asked. She shook her head.

"Just a guy I hook up with sometimes. But he's not a really quality person, you know?"

Kath nodded. "I haven't dated at all in college."

"Me neither," added Melany. "Yuki?"

Yuki looked down. "I had a summer fling that bled over into fall semester, but it's over now."

"Single and ready to mingle in nineteen sixty-seven," Barbara said, raising her hands in the air and doing a little dance in her seat. The other girls laughed.

At that moment, "Let's Dance On" ended, and Davy took the microphone.

"We have one more for you, tonight," Davy said. This was met with groans of disappointment that the concert was over. "But it's pretty groovy, so don't worry."

Micky took the lead on this one, as "No Time" began to reverberate throughout the room.

"Wanna dance?" said a voice from behind Melany.

She wheeled around to see that the dark-haired stud from the corner was looking at Barbara, hand outstretched. Up close, Melany noticed a small scar on his left cheek, just below his jaw line.

"Sure," she said, taking his hand. She gave a wave to the girls.

"Let's go, too," Kath said. "Barbara shouldn't have all the fun."

So, abandoning their drinks, the other three made their way to the dance floor, losing themselves in the crowd. Melany let the music overtake her senses. She closed her eyes and tried to forget that she had ever lived in a time other than this.

When the song ended and the crowd erupted into cheers, Melany caught sight of Barbara and the stud. He was handing her a slip of paper. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. She blushed and waved before turning away.

Melany found Kath and Yuki and they looked back at the stage, but the boys had been overtaken by groups of women and girls, so the four of them decided to hang back until they were ready. They sat on one end of the stage, sipping the rest of their drinks slowly, watching the scene in front of them.

"I like it here. Way more than I should for a place I'm trapped in." Kath admitted.

"It's only day one," Melany warned. "Don't get too comfortable." This was directed at Barbara.

"Yeah, don't get too attached to Mister Dark Eyes Super Stud." Yuki pursed her lips.

Barbara just smirked. "His name is Jimmy, and he's a lovely gentleman," she said, in a tone that meant the subject was closed.

"Twenty-four hours in and she already has a love interest," Yuki muttered.

"Hey, good TV needs a little drama, a little romance," Barbara stated.

The Little Club Downtown was beginning to empty out after the concert. The girls that had been flirting with the Monkees finally left, and the boys walked over to them.

"Well, what did you think?" Peter asked.

The girls erupted into cheers and hollers. Kath gave a personal standing ovation. The guys rolled their eyes to the ceiling, but looked pleased nonetheless.

"It was really good, guys," Yuki said earnestly.

"All of my dreams came true," Melany nodded.

The boys, glowing, exchanged smiles. "Thanks."

"It's a groovy place, huh?" Davy said. The girls nodded.

"We're here next weekend, too." Mike added.

"Can't wait," Yuki smiled.

Melany watched as they began to tear everything down and, if she wasn't mistaken, she thought that she sensed something like relief in their faces. She felt it too. She was happy that the other three girls enjoyed their music; it certainly would make living together that much easier.

* * *

Check out the next chapter to see what happens when something else is sent from the future! Oh boy, getting real now!


	13. PresentsPresence

**Chapter Twelve: Presents/Presence**

Davy walked downstairs in the morning stillness. This particular morning marked one week since the arrival of the girls from the future. Davy had always been the early riser of the gang; he enjoyed the tranquility of the dawn, the silence of this precious time before everyone else woke up. His day-to-day routine consisted of sitting outside and watching the ocean waves from the porch, their soothing sound the only thing in his ears for several still minutes as the sun rose higher and brought the beach into a soft light.

However, ever since the girls had moved in, his mornings had not been solitary anymore. Although he could hardly complain as he pushed through the screen door to the porch and discovered Barbara in the downward dog position. Every morning thus far, this was how he discovered her, doing yoga as the sun rose around her.

"Morning," he said.

She swiftly moved upright, arms stretched up high. "Morning, Davy." Her head was facing the sky, her eyes closed.

"Back at it again, huh?"

"You know it."

She continued her routine and Davy took a seat. His eyes were on the waves, but he couldn't help them flickering toward her figure every so often. He knew that talking to her was pointless; this situation was now a daily occurrence and they had established an unspoken routine: he would sit in his quiet meditative state, as he always had, watching the waves, and she would stretch next to him. For about five or ten minutes, and then –

"Lovely day." Kath walked out onto the porch a bit ahead of schedule, holding a mug of coffee in one hand and two in the other. She set all three down and handed one to Davy.

"Yes it is, Kath my darling," Melany said with impeccable serenity, from cobra position.

Kath yawned. She took a sip of coffee. Davy yawned. Melany yawned, too.

"Why's everyone so dang tired?" Mike had stumbled out onto the porch. He yawned and took a seat next to Kath.

"Good morning, Mike," she reached over and handed him the third cup of coffee.

"The four early risers are up," Davy commented. He smiled to himself as he looked over at Kath and Mike, and then at Barbara, her legs stretched around her in what looked to him to be a very uncomfortable position.

"Hey, it's our one week roommate anniversary," Kath said. "Do you wanna kick us out yet?"

The boys snorted. "Not if you keep making coffee this well," Mike said.

Kath shined. "I learned from the best."

As the sun came up in earnest, the sounds of traffic began to slowly increase, and Barbara finished her session, the group decided to head inside for breakfast. They discovered the remaining two girls were already munching on toast and cereal at the table as the rest of them sat down.

There was a knock on the door. Davy walked over to open it as the others took seats at the table and began eating.

"Hello there, Davy." It was Mrs. Small, the kind elderly woman who lived next door. "I know it's a bit early, but would you happen to have some milk I could borrow?"

"Yeah, no sweat," Davy said. He turned around to see that Yuki had already risen and was bringing the carton over to the door. Mrs. Small craned her neck to get a better look at the group of people gathered around the breakfast table.

"You boys have quite the little homestead now, don't you?" She asked, taking the carton from Yuki. "Thank you dear."

Davy nodded. "We've taken on a few new roommates."

"Eight of you now, then?"

"Yes ma'am."

"It must be such a rush when everyone wants to get ready at the same time in the morning."

Davy nodded. "Yes it is, so I suggested that we save time by showering in pairs," Mrs. Small's eyebrows shot up. "…But Mike said he didn't want to share it with me."

He glanced back to see how his joke hit, and caught the girls laughing into their cereal as Mike slowly shook his head.

After the other two boys had woken up, the gang was sitting on the beach outside, chatting. The boys had nowhere to go until four for their gig that night and the girls' only plan for the day was to grocery shop. The conversation turned to jobs.

"Gonna go on the turf, huh?" Micky asked.

"I think we might as well try to find something," Yuki said. "Seeing as it looks like we're not going anywhere."

The breeze caught her pink and purple streaked hair, blowing it around her face. Davy noticed Peter watching her with a dreamy look in his eyes. There would be a song written about her someday, he was certain.

"Yes, and I don't really like being lazy." He turned to his right as Barbara spoke. Her round sunglasses hid her eyes. There would be a song about her someday, too.

"What about you guys? Do you know anywhere we could look?" Kath asked.

Mike shook his head. "We don't really know what's out there."

"You don't have any other jobs?"

"We're full-time musicians," Peter piped up.

Davy spotted Melany and Kath exchange a dubious look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Micky had apparently noticed the look, too.

Kath blushed but Melany shrugged and said: "Well, maybe if you guys had part-time jobs you wouldn't need four more roommates to help with the rent."

Mike whistled. Yuki smothered a laugh, but Barbara burst out: "Woah. Mel is layin' it _down_."

"Not that I'm ungrateful for your hospitality – " Melany said, in an attempt to recover, heat rising in her face.

Micky was dying with laughter.

Davy watched as Peter cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, as though he had never considered this.

"Actually, there's a reason why none of us can hold down jobs for longer than a little while," Davy began. He knew exactly why they couldn't have part-time jobs, but just as he opened his mouth to explain, Peter beat him to it.

"Yeah," he nodded. "We would honestly be fired after the first couple days. It seems like, about once a week, something weird happens to us, like a problem comes up that we have to fix, some of us get kidnapped, we accidentally highjack some illegal microfilm…" He went on to list some of the insane adventures that his friends had gone on, and Davy watched the faces of the girls change from suspicious judgment to surprise as they began to understand the extent of the Monkees' shenanigans.

Melany had this odd look of understanding creep over her face. Davy watched her nudge Kath and whisper something, to which Kath replied with a knowing nod. Davy was about to interrupt and ask what had just happened, when Peter said:

"…and I suppose last week, our odd occurrence was the appearance of you four." He paused, thought for a moment, and said: "And it's been one week since that. So we're just about due for – "

 _WHOOSH_. As if on cue, an intense gust of wind swept up out of nowhere, blowing sand into their faces, momentarily blinding Davy.

 _THUMP_. He heard the sound of something thudding to the ground and wiped the sand out of his eyes to see what it was. Three backpacks and a purse had suddenly appeared on the sand in front of the group.

With cries of surprise, the girls rushed toward them immediately.

" _Our bags?!"_ Each of them claiming one, they sat down next to them, unzipping and rifling through.

Davy caught Mike's eye and they diverted their gaze from the women to look around their peaceful area on the beach and into the sky, searching for something that had caused that wind, or something that could have dropped these bags off.

"Professor Darling must have sent these the same way he sent us," Yuki was saying as Davy and Mike approached.

"There's that name again," Mike muttered.

"Maybe that means he's trying to tell us something."

"Nothing new inside mine, though," Barbara said, zipping her flashy purple purse back up. "But thank God, I finally have my chapstick again."

"But this does mean it wasn't a freak thing. If he can send other things back, maybe he can take things home, too," Kath mused. She pulled a sliver rectangle (much like Melany's eye-phone), and hugged it to her chest.

Micky was peering over Barbara's shoulder. She had a slate-type device in front of her. The surface blinked into life to reveal a screen much like the phone.

"Hang, on," said Peter, sidling up to Barbara. "Is that – "

"Yes my friends," she said triumphantly. "It's the _amazing, incredible, iPad._ "

The other girls rolled their eyes at Barbara's enthusiasm. But Davy suddenly felt a wave of unease. They had just witnessed time traveling. With inanimate objects, yes, but any doubts that had remained in even the deepest parts of his mind had been officially washed away. The girls were here. And they _were_ from the future. And they were, as far as he could tell, stuck. His heart felt very heavy for a moment as he tried to imagine what it might be like to never be able to go back to Manchester, to his home, again. He noticed the rest of the guys crowded around Barbara, watching her use the iPad, while the girls sat off to the side, exchanging smiles at the scene in front of them. They appeared happy, but he knew it was only week one.

Mike glanced up and caught Davy watching them. He raised an eyebrow and jerked his head to the side with a "Can we talk for a second?" look on his face. Davy nodded and the two stepped away from the happy group for a moment.

When they were out of earshot of the rest of the group, Mike said, "I was just thinkin'…" His voice faded.

"What?"

Mike hesitated. "Is it horrible that I don't really want them to leave?"

Davy felt almost relieved at Mike's confession. "I feel the same way, mate. And I bet Peter and Micky think so, too."

"This whole thing has got me all worked up," Mike said, referring to the sudden arrival of the bags. "You think he's gonna suck them up into the sky or somethin'?"

Davy shrugged. "We'll just have to see, I s'pose."

Mike nodded, looking down. "Here's hoping we get at least one more week, though."

* * *

Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the next chapter? Because it's my FAVORITE CHAPTER IN THIS STORY. Brace yourselves.


	14. The Star-Crossed Morning

**Chapter Thirteen: The Star-Crossed Morning**

The Monkees had never been the luckiest group of guys; hardly able to make rent most months, strange things happening on a regular basis, curses and spells placed on them almost biweekly – it seemed like someone, somewhere was out to get them. Or maybe, thought Peter, as he walked with Yuki down the road into town, it was just their lot in life.

It had been a clear Tuesday morning, and Yuki had decided that a walk was in order. She had asked a few of the others still at the Pad (everyone except Barbara, who was at work, and Kath, who was also at work) if they wanted to join her, but Micky and Melany were still in the process of waking up, and Davy and Mike were deep in conversation about a new song Mike was working on, so Peter had been the only one to accept her offer.

He liked Yuki. After three weeks, he knew there was something special about her that warranted his feelings; she seemed to have the same introspective, quiet nature that he did. She was kind towards everyone and she always greeted him with a smile. He was smitten, though he knew that the time wasn't right for him to say anything. So, instead, he would go on walks with her. Whenever she wanted a companion, he was usually the first to volunteer. If she noticed, she never let on, but Peter didn't really care if she _did_ know. Their situation was precarious, because there was always a chance that she and the rest of the girls could be torn back to 2016 at any moment, so Peter enjoyed the little things; the morning walks and the rare one-on-one conversations on the couch when all the others were talking loudly in the kitchen.

So, naturally, it came as a disappointing surprise when, on this glorious, clear, Tuesday morning, just as a black stray cat walked in front of them, it began to pour down rain.

* * *

Kath entered the back door to Frog's Grocer, her new place of employment and flicked on the lights. She was the second one there that morning, as the manager came in one hour ahead. Kath was there on that fateful Tuesday to organize the order that had arrived on Monday, putting it back on the shelves in the storage room where it belonged, and organizing the refrigerated items in the walk-in cooler.

She greeted her manager, an eccentric woman named Martha Mays, who seemed to always have one thousand distracting things on her mind, and then went to work. The store was open by the time Kath started, and Martha had taken her place at the register, while also working on the organization of a new display at the front of the store. Between those two tasks, Kath didn't see much of her. She headed to the back and decided to being by restocking and organizing the cooler, her least favorite task. She checked her watch: 10:05 AM. With a disappointing jolt, she realized that she had forgotten to bring her lunch.

"God _damnit_ ," she muttered, pulling on her cardigan. She could see it in her mind on the kitchen counter where she had left it: that beautiful peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she had so been looking forward to – the highlight of her day. "Just my luck."

With a forlorn sigh, she stepped into the walk-in cooler.

* * *

Back at the Pad, Micky had finally begun to wake up as he ate his cereal at 10:00 in the morning. Across from him, Melany read the newspaper and munched on some toast. "Anything good?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Not really. But not as bad as the headlines I used to read."

"Really?"

"Well – I guess it depends on how you look at it. They're different not goods."

At that moment, Micky noticed a brown paper bag on the counter. "Oh no…"

Melany looked up at his sudden change in tone. "What is it?" She followed his gaze to the counter.

They looked at each other. "Kath's lunch." They said in unison.

Melany raised an eyebrow at him pointedly. "Someone should probably take it to her."

Micky nodded. Kath without her lunch was not a happy Kath.

"Wait – check what it is first," Melany said. Micky stood up. "If it's PB and J, then we absolutely have no choice."

Laughing to himself as he opened the bag, Micky turned around. "Yep."

"She'll go ape when she realizes she forgot that." Melany shook her head.

"I'll take it to her."

"You sure?" Melany asked. "I'm going into work at one, I can just stop by on my way."

"Nah, her break is at noon. She'll want it then," he said, remembering that she had told him how much that damned peanut butter and jelly got her through her day.

Melany blinked and then nodded, raising the paper back up to her face and lifting her legs to cross them on the table. "You're a good friend, Mick."

Micky heaved a dramatic sigh, but he was smiling as he finished his cereal. "I know."

* * *

A short while later, after he had finished breakfast and dressed for the day, Micky grabbed Kath's lunch bag and headed out the door. He splashed through puddles as he made his way into town, feeling fairly lucky that he had just missed the rain.

He walked into the grocery store, expecting to see Kath at the register, but instead found a frizzy-haired woman checking out a line of people. Instead of waiting around to ask her where Kath was, he figured he would search for himself.

On his way down one of the isles, he spotted a door that read "Employees Only" near the cold food items section.

"That must be where she is." He pushed through the door. He was in the storage room where all the food not on the shelves was kept, and he walked up and down the rows, calling Kath's name. He saw her backpack in the corner by a large silver door, presumably to the walk-in refrigerator. Suddenly, he stopped. He could hear something…a faint pounding coming from behind the door.

"Kath?" He called, grabbing the handle and pulling it open.

"Oh my god, _thank_ _you_." A blue-lipped Kath stood in front of him. She froze and looked up at him, realizing who had opened the door. "Micky? What are you doing – wait, NO!" She pushed around him and reached for the door just as it clicked shut.

"Cool it, what's wrong?" He asked, confused by the utter despair in her tone. He stared at her back. Her long blonde hair was braided today. He loved those dark blue pants on her, he thought, fleetingly, but his mind went back to the situation at hand when Kath turned around, shivering.

"We're locked inside."

* * *

Not too long after Micky had left the Pad, it had begun to rain again.

"Hope he made it to Frog's in time," Melany said. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, now, watching Davy and Mike write songs. It fascinated her.

"Mhm," Mike muttered absentmindedly. They had said they didn't mind her being there, and she usually watched them silently.

"What about this, Davy?" Mike said, playing a few chords and humming a simple melody. Melany recognized it instantly as "The Girl that I Knew Somewhere," and she held back her excitement. She was _watching Mike write that song, right now_.

Despite her initial internal response to the question Barbara had posed on their second day there, she did indeed have a favorite. It was Mike. It had always been Mike. Melany sighed inwardly; she had had a crush on him, well, the _1960's_ him, even back in her time. And she was still trying to figure out if that crush was real or not.

" _You tell me things I know that I've heard somewhere_ ," he sang softly, testing it out. "Huh. Can I rhyme 'somewhere' with 'somewhere?'" He said to nobody in particular.

"Oh yeah," Melany couldn't stop herself from saying. She grimaced internally right after speaking; she wasn't supposed to be helping him write this song. _Butterfly effect_ kept reverberating around her mind.  
"Yeah?" He looked up at her. "You dig?"

She smiled. "I dig."

Just then, as his finger strummed the next chord, the A string popped.

"NO!" Mike wailed. "I'm at a breakthrough!"

"Literally," Davy quipped, grinning childishly at Mike's misfortune.

He shot him a glare. "Do we have any extra A's?"

Davy shook his head. "Unless you take mine or Pete's guitar – " But Mike had already crossed the room in three long strides and snatched Peter's guitar off the stand in the corner. He sat down and began tuning it up when _that_ A string snapped, too. Melany's mouth fell open.

"Oh no," she breathed. Mike's face remained impassive.

"Davy," He said, pleadingly. Davy stood up, holding his guitar close to his chest.

"Hold on, I'm in the middle of writing something, too."

"No you're not man, you're just messing around. I've been sitting here with you all morning. Hang it up. You're not writing anything."

Davy bit his lip. "But I don't want you to break my string."

Mike rolled his eyes. Melany watched with bated breath as he took the guitar from Davy's clutches, the British boy yielding to his request.

"How can I snap three A's in one day?" Mike said, sitting back down on the couch across from Melany. He began strumming. Melany had just let out the breath she had been holding in when – _twang!_

"This can't be happening." Mike looked as though he had snapped, too. Melany looked over at Davy, who was staring with wide eyes. He did not seem angry so much as scared.

"This can't be happening," Mike said again, looking at the guitar in his hands.

Melany took a hesitant step forward and touched Mike's shoulder. His face snapped up to look at her.

"Mike, it's fine. We'll just go get another string, okay?" She looked at Davy. He shrugged.

Suddenly, Mike stood up, heading for the door, Davy's guitar still in his hand. "Let's go, then! I'm going to forget the song!"

"No you won't," Melany murmured to herself. She shot Davy a look.

"Go ahead and go," he said in response before flopping back on the couch. "I'll wait here. Peter and Yuki'll be back soon. But someone should make sure he doesn't hurt himself in that state."

Melany saluted and jogged out the door after Mike.

* * *

Davy put his feet up onto the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. He hoped that Mike would remember that they had a gig that night and buy three strings for all the guitars. A few minutes later, as Davy was humming the new song, the door to the Pad opened. Barbara walked in.

"You're back early," Davy replied, checking his watch. It was 11:00.

"Only two hours. We weren't as busy at the restaurant this morning."

She poured herself a glass of water and sat down on the couch next to Davy. She leaned into the side and stretched out her legs across his lap.

"Oh, get off," he said with a smirk, playfully pushing her feet away.

She shook her head, fighting back, forcing her legs to stay where they were. Then, she sneezed.

"God bless you," Davy said. Barbara sneezed again. And again. "Goodness."

"Sorry," she looked confused. "I don't know what's going – a _-choo!_ "

Just then, a streak of black shot out from behind the couch and darted across the room.

"Was that a cat?" Davy asked, sitting up. Barbara's legs fell off him as he did so, but she was too distracted with her sneezing.

"I hope not, I'm really allergic." Barbara seemed to have regained some control over herself, but she was still sniffing loudly.

Davy peered around the staircase. The black cat suddenly darted up the stairs.

"It _is_ a cat! How did it get in here?"

Barbara walked over to the staircase with him. "I don't know, but can we try to get it out?"

Davy nodded and the two of them headed upstairs.

* * *

Yuki had a tight grip on Peter's arm as she led him through the downpour.

"Where's this shelter you're talking about?" He yelled. "The Pad isn't too far away – let's just go back there!"

"No, trust me!" She called back. On one of her previous walks she had discovered something along this road that might make this unlucky turn of events quite peaceful.

"Whatever you say!"

They continued running down the beachside road, Yuki's shoes soaked through with every puddle they splashed through. It was the warm kind of rain, the kind that brought more humidity with it instead of washing it away. She was having difficulty seeing through her glasses, spattered with raindrops, but knew that removing them would be no better.

She stopped and suddenly turned to run off the side of the road, down the hill toward the beach.

"Where are you going?" Peter followed her, stumbling down the sand.

"Almost there!"

She led him to the right, along the cliffside that they had just slid down. It changed from sand to rock and she kept going.

"Here," she said, proudly, leading him into a little cave that was set into the side of the cliff. It was just big enough for two people to duck under. Someone had placed a driftwood log there as a makeshift bench. Yuki sat down and pulled Peter down next to her.

"Neat," he said. The cave was hardly more than a shelter from the rain, but it was the view that Peter was referring to.

She smiled and took off her glasses, wiping them as best as she could. She put them back on, and even through the watery lenses she could still see the ocean, waves crashing, more violent-looking with the rain falling hard at the same time. It was loud in the cave, rain, cars driving by above, the waves and the wind – but there was a strange peace in the noise.

"This is groovy, Yuki. I can't believe I never knew this was here." Peter shook his head, flinging water everywhere.

"I just wandered off a bit too far once and found it," Yuki said. "It's a little stuffy on hot days, but when you need some shelter and a view, it's not bad."

Wringing out her hair, she sighed peacefully.

"Sorry you came with me and got caught in the rain," she said. She turned, watching Peter's face. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but something that made her glad that he was stuck there with her.

Peter looked over at her and smiled. "I'm not."

"Why?

He paused for a moment.

"I like hanging out with you. You're a dove, like me."

"Dove?"

Peter frowned. "We're the beautiful people."

"Beautiful people?" They way he had said it made her think that he wasn't complimenting her appearance. She racked her brains; this was 60's lingo that she was unfamiliar with, but she tried to infer from context what Peter was talking about.

Suddenly, she understood.

"Flower child?" She supplied cautiously. Peter's face broke into a smile.

"Yes. That's us, Yuki."

She'd never really thought of herself as a member of the counterculture, but she was surprised at how well the words seemed to fit as Peter spoke them.

"Are you telling me you're a hippie, Peter Tork?"

He shrugged. "I just think love and peace are really important."

"So do I."

"See? There you go. You _are_ a dove."

She looked away from him, back toward the sea, a comfortable smile on her face. As she sat, watching the rain falling into the waves with Peter next to her, she felt like this was all she needed. Maybe she was a hippie, after all.

* * *

"What do you mean we're locked inside?"

"I mean the door won't open."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. It's broken or something. I guess safety inspections and push-release locks weren't as big of a thing in the sixties."

A frantic Micky pushed Kath aside and tried in vain to open the door. The handle was, indeed, stuck.

He turned back to Kath. She noticed that he was wearing long sleeves. It was that orange shirt that went so well with his coloring. She pulled her cardigan more tightly around her.

"How long have you been in here?" He asked.

Hugging herself, Kath said, "About a half hour."

"What's the temperature?"

"Somewhere between thirty-eight and forty-one degrees." She began to shiver, despite her best efforts to withstand it.

He reached out and began rubbing her arms. "Doesn't anybody know you're back here?"

"Martha. The manager. But she must be busy because I've been pounding on that door and nobody's opened it but you."

Micky nodded. "Yeah, she's got a line of people at the register right now."

Kath groaned. "We're gonna die in here."

"No we're not. Someone will come to save us!"

She shook her head. "Who? It could be hours until they need inside this cooler again." She looked up at him, hopelessness flooding her, a bit overdramatically. "I'm so sorry you got into this me—Hang on, why are you here, anyway?"

"Oh," Micky laughed. "To bring you this." He took a brown paper bag out from under his arm, where he had been holding it.

"Is that my PB and J?" Kath could almost cry as she took the bag from Micky.

"Yeah, Mel and I noticed it on the counter today and I figured you'd have a cow without it so I thought I'd bring it to you."

"Thank you." She couldn't make eye contact with him for some reason. Was she really getting emotional over a damn sandwich?

"Well, I didn't save you from this freezer."

"I'll take what I can get. At least my last meal will be satisfactory."

Micky put his hands on her arms again. "We're not gonna die in here, Freckles. Stop thinking like that."

Kath stepped away and Micky hugged himself, pacing.

"Wait," Kath had an idea. "Can't we do that thing where all of a sudden our clothes change or we get some props or something?"

"Like a cut to a funny bit?" Micky said, excited. "Like when we need to solve a problem or do something wacky and hilarious?"

"Yes!" Kath began to pace too, deep in thought. "How about we try to do an Eskimo bit, something that involves about five more layers of warm clothes."

"Perfect." Micky began rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Okay. Ready? One, two, three!"

She closed her eyes, paused, and then opened them. Nothing.

She sighed. "I thought it would just _happen_."

Micky frowned. "So did I. I guess we can't control it."

Kath began to shiver again. Her thin cardigan was not enough for 38 degrees. Micky ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. He hadn't combed it down today, Kath noticed. She liked it like that, all frizzy.

"Hey Micky?" She asked quietly, sitting down on one of the boxes that she was supposed to be putting away.

"Yeah?"

"If we die in here," she began, purposefully dramatic, "I want you to know that –"

"For crying out loud, Kath!" Micky seemed genuinely exasperated as he cut her off. He walked over and knelt down in front of her so they were on the same level. Then, he noticed her smirk. "Oh, you think you're a funny guy, huh?"

She shrugged. "A little bit."

"Well you're not."

"I'll tell you what I am, though."

"What?"

"Really, really cold."

Micky sighed. "I keep forgetting you've been in here for a while. C'mere."

He stood up and motioned for her to do the same. She did, a little confused at what he was going to do. She was surprised when he put his arms around her, holding her close against his torso.

"Body heat?" She asked, already feeling better.

"You got it. It's no joke."

"Outta sight," she tested out her 60's slang. "Did I use that right?"

She felt Micky shrug. "Close enough."

* * *

"Mike, wait up!" Melany called. Her short legs were no match for Mike's long, purposeful strides.

"No time to wait," he said, looking straight onward. "I have to get that string."

"You're song's not going anywhere," Melany panted, finally catching up to him. "Relax."

He stopped, wheeled around and grabbed her by the shoulders as best as he could with a guitar in his hands.

"Relax?!" He repeated.

Melany nodded. "Yeah. Cool it. Chill. Don't have a cow. Relax."

He shook his head as he approached the car parked in the detached garage next to their house. He threw open the garage door, jumped inside and started up the ol' Monkeemobile.

Melany clambered in front next to him before he drove away without her, and soon they were roaring down the road into town. Wind whipping through her hair, and very thankful that it was no longer raining, Melany asked:

"You don't really think you're going to forget that song in the time it takes to pick up an A, do you?"

Mike, eyes on the road, shrugged passively. Melany gave up talking and rode in silence. And then:

 _SCREECH_! He slammed on the breaks and pulled off the side of the road. He turned to Melany, a wild look in his eyes. She was almost scared, but she knew Mike got like this sometimes; he was very composed most days, but every once in a while something just set him off and next think you know you're speeding through a residential neighborhood in search of an A string and –

"You know what happens, you know our music," Mike said, interrupting her thoughts. "Do I get this song finished?"  
"Um," Melany did not want to effect this butterfly anymore than she felt she already had. "Mike, you know the rules – "

"What rules?"

"The – the – time travel rules," she faltered.

He raised an eyebrow. She could sense him quickly losing interest. "Oh, the ones you made up?"

"No," she bristled. "I'm just trying to do what's best and I'm trying really hard to not screw anything up. My being here is probably messing things up enough – I don't belong in this time, yet here I am, following you around town to find your stupid guitar string."

Heavy silence followed.

Melany began to feel a bit bad about her outburst. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to sound so nasty."

"You don't really think that, do you?"

"That your guitar string is stupid? Of course not, I - "

He chuckled. "No, goof. That you're not supposed to be here."

This caught her off-guard. "Yeah, I do. Because I'm not. Right?"

Mike looked over at her. He offered a shrug. "I say you are."

She couldn't think of anything to say to this, and they lapsed into silence again. Mike began to drive, and few minutes later they arrived at the music store, RECORDS AND THINGS.

Mike got out, told Melany to watch his guitar, and ran inside. She sat, thinking over what Mike had said. Was their being thrown into the past _not_ a horrible accident, doomed to contaminate the lives of everyone they came into contact with? Was it actually okay?

Mike returned a moment later, empty handed.

"Where's the string?" She asked.

He looked like he was about to explode. "They're _out of A's_."

Her jaw dropped, for the second time that morning. "What?"

He nodded. "They said to try the repair shop on the other side of town."

They began driving down the busy main street, getting stopped at almost every stoplight.

"What's really going on with this mad string-chasing?" Melany asked as they came to a halt in front of another red. Mike didn't answer right away. He seemed to have calmed down, but Melany spotted him clenching and unclenching his fists every once in a while.

"It's just that – well, writing has been difficult for me lately," he admitted. " _Really_ difficult. The hardest it's been in my whole life, actually."

Melany was surprised. "That's gotta be horrible."

He nodded. "Yeah. It's the pits, really. We had a falling-out with a friend not too long ago, and I think that had all of us a bit shaken up," he continued. Melany wanted to know whom, but decided that it wasn't her place to ask. She let Mike continue. "So it's been hard for all of us. But then – since about the time you four landed here – it's been getting better. And today, the progress I made on – on – " he rubbed his forehead, as if trying to remember.

"'The Girl That I Knew Somewhere?'" Melany supplied.

"So _that's_ what I name it!" Mike shouted. "I was stuck between two names, but thanks to you, Miss Future, I know which one I should pick."

Melany was furious. "You _tricked me_ into giving you the title?!"

Mike laughed. "Yep. And it _worked!_ It must turn out all right if you know the name all the way in two-thousand sixteen."

"I can't believe this," Melany wanted to laugh, but also wanted to punch him in the face.

"You gotta loosen up, Mel," he said. "You're not ruining anyone's lives."

They finally arrived at the repair shop. Mike got out of the car.

"You're bringing them some new life." He stared hard at her, tapped the door lightly with his hand, and then walked inside.

Melany didn't know what to make of these words. The whole time she had been there, she had assumed that their presence was rejected by the time they were living in – there was no purpose for them. They didn't belong and anything they touched might turn sour at any moment. But maybe…maybe she was looking at it wrong.

When Mike returned, she started to say something else, but then stopped when she noticed that he was, yet again, empty-handed.

"No," she said. "Tell me it isn't so."

"Frog's."

"The grocery store where Kath and Yuki work? _They_ have your missing A?"

Mike shrugged. "It was the only other place nearby that the guy could think of. He says they have it. I say we'd have to be pretty lucky if they did."

Melany snorted. "Somehow I don't think that adjective describes us today."

* * *

Micky, one arm still around Kath's shoulders, was pounding lifelessly on the door.

"Help," Kath said, unenthusiastically, her voice muffled in Micky's chest.

"Someone," Micky echoed her apathetic tone.

"Anyone."

"Please."

He stopped his halfhearted knocking. "Y'know, I honestly thought someone would've come by now."

"So did I," Kath yawned. "I'm just gonna take a little nap. Wake me up if we're rescued."

As she relaxed against him, he was suddenly flooded with panic. Stepping back, he gripped her shoulders and began shaking her roughly.

"No, Kath, that's rule number one! Don't fall asleep when you're dying of cold!"

She blinked. "Get off, Mick. I'm not dying. I just didn't sleep a lot last night."

"…Oh."

"Isn't that dumb?" She chucked. He was about to retort back when the _door opened_!

" _YESSSSSSSSSSS!"_ Kath and Micky cheered together, standing up and rushing right into the frizzy-haired woman that Micky had seen at the register when he walked in.

"Oh, there you are, Kath," Martha said. "I was wondering where you were. I came back here getting those guitar strings that we never put out, because this couple came in asking for them, and I realized that I've been meaning to come back and speak to you. Jodi's here now and you've done enough for today, so why don't you go home early? It's lovely outside, and you've been working a lot this week. Go enjoy yourself. Oh, is this your roommate? Nice to meet you young man."

The woman spoke all of this so quickly, without pausing for even a moment of breath, that it was impossible for Kath or Micky to get a word in.

"Nicetomeetyoutoo," Micky said, exhausted at the rapidity with which he had just heard her speak.

"Martha, we got locked inside that freezer." Kath said. "You need to get it fixed. I've been in there for an hour."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that!" The lady's mind seemed to be in about one million places, and Micky doubted that the severity of what had just happened was lost on her. "The repair man is supposed to be looking at it today."

"Good," Kath said, simply. She shot Micky a look that clearly meant: "This is what I deal with every single day."

But she smiled politely and said: "Thanks for the okay to leave early, Martha, I really appreciate it."

"No problem, dear. Would you mind ringing up these strings for the gentleman in the green hat out front before you leave?"

"Sure thing," Kath took the guitar strings from Martha and grabbed her backpack. She still had the lunch bag in her left hand.

"You have so much patience, it's kind of astounding," Micky said when Martha was out of earshot.

Kath snorted. "She's a piece of work, but she honestly means well."

When the two of them made it out front, they realized that the "man in the green hat" was actually Mike, standing with Melany by the register. Mike had one hand around the neck of Davy's guitar.

"What are you two doing here?" Both parties spoke at the same time.

"I broke three A's trying to finish that song," Mike said.

"I'm here to make sure he didn't crash the car in his song-writing rage," Melany added.

"We were locked in a freezer."

"What?!"

"Long story," Kath began, but then she stopped. "Micky – they _saved_ us!"

His eyes widened when he realized what she was saying. "You're right! If Martha hadn't had to come to the back for those strings we might still be in there!"

At this, they both rushed forward, crushing the other two in hugs.

"Would you cool it?" Mike said, shoving Micky off him. Kath glommed on after he was free. "For Pete's sake."

"One of my personal favorites," Micky quipped, his arms around an unyielding Melany.

"C'mon. Let's go home." Mike grabbed the strings and headed out the door.

* * *

Back at the Pad, Davy and Barbara were having trouble.

 _Crash!_

"Oops."

 _Thump!_

"Ah – sorry Davy. Don't worry, it didn't break!"

They had started upstairs, the cat running into the boys' bedroom. Barbara had thought at once that it was cornered; they had only to reach under the bed and drag it out. But the thing was slippery – it seemed to weave just out of their reach at the last moment, no matter how swift they were.

Davy reached for the cat under the bed and received a nice long scratch down his forearm. Then the creature took off past him out the open door and down the hall.

Barbara, after inspecting Davy's injury (which he immediately brushed off as nothing), took off after the cat and tripped _over_ it as she rounded the corner. She fell while the cat stepped lightly down the stairs, and that was how the next hour went for the two of them.

"I've never heard a lady curse so much in me life," Davy stated as the cat got away from him yet _again._ Barbara hardly heard him; she was so focused on stepping quietly around the back of the couch.

"Now Davy, I'm going to scare him and he'll run your direction. You grab him and – "

"Rip his head off?"

"Honestly I don't give a shit what you do with the damn thing."

She was frustrated, bruised, and _still_ fighting back sneezes every minute and a half. She took a breath, stepped around the couch and the cat shot off past Davy. He dove, missed it, and it jumped on the kitchen table, sliding across and knocking off the jug of milk that had been left out after breakfast.

It smashed all over the floor, shattering and sending the creamy white liquid flying all over the place, splattering everything in the kitchen. Barbara turned to Davy, mouth open.

"Well, at least it isn't the first thing that's been broken over this creature." He sighed.

"That's not a good way to look at it!"

They sprinted after the cat, which had taken refuge underneath the chair by the door. Barbara grabbed the chair so Davy had a clear shot. He leapt forward, intending to land on the animal and capture it, but it jumped out of his reach and he came down hard on the ground, knocking the umbrella stand over and sending pieces of it flying everywhere.

"I can't take much more of this."

Barbara looked him over after helping him to his feet. Bloody arm, scratches across his cheek from running into something else, hair sticking out every which way. She figured she probably didn't look much better.

"Want to give it up?" She asked. She reached forward and fixed his hair.

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "No. We're gonna beat this cat if it's the last thing we do." He slammed his fist into his hand.

Barbara cracked her knuckles. "Okay. Round Two."

Davy scoffed, licking his thumb and rubbing a smudge off Barbara's cheek. "More like Round Eighteen, darling."

* * *

Yuki and Peter were walking slowly on their way back to the Pad. Though her morning walk had lasted about twice as long as usual due to the rain, she had had an enjoyable day thus far.

"We could make grilled cheese," Peter suggested. "That's always a good rainy day food."

They were talking about what they would have for lunch.

"That sounds great to me."

"It's nice having food in the house again," Peter said. "And some company, too. All the guys really like having you girls here."

"Really?" Yuki asked. She knew they didn't mind it, but eight people in one house was a lot to ask for someone to "really like."

Peter nodded. They stopped outside the door to the Pad. "We've been going through a dry patch, songwriting-wise, but I noticed that it's been getting better over the last few weeks. Only thing that's changed is that you're here now."

Yuki grew bashful. "Well if you want to give us credit for that, by all means, go ahead."

Just then, the Monkeemobile roared to a stop next to them. Melany, Micky and Kath, holding Davy's guitar, got out and Mike pulled it into the garage.

"What were you all doing?" Yuki asked.

"Why do you have Davy's guitar?"

"I broke three A strings," Mike said, coming out the side door.

"Micky and I got locked in the walk-in cooler for an hour."

"What?" Yuki and Peter exchanged glances.

"Let's go inside and talk about it over lunch. It's close to noon now," Mike said, checking his watch.

Yuki led the way inside and, as she stepped over the threshold, her jaw dropped.

The place was _trashed_. Chairs knocked over, lamps lying shattered on the ground, couches overturned, the MONEY IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL sign lying on the floor in front of them, pictures hanging crooked on the walls and milk everywhere in the kitchen.

"What on earth happened here?!" Mike said, stepping inside behind her.

Just then, there came a holler from upstairs.

"It's going down!" screeched Barbara's voice.

"I've got it, I've got it!" Davy came hurtling out of the bedroom, hot on the tail of a skinny black cat.

"Hey, catch it, would you?" A very bruised Davy yelled, noticing the group at the front door. He was followed closely by an equally beat-up looking Barbara.

As the cat stepped off the last step, Yuki leant down and easily scooped it up into her arms. The cat sat there calmly, purring.

Davy, his mouth open in shock, said: "How did you do that?"

"We've been chasing that thing around for an hour," Barbara added in disbelief.

Yuki set the cat down outside the door and closed it tightly. "I don't know."

"Cats must like you." Peter stated.

Yuki shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."

* * *

Yeah that's my favorite chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed it as well. Next up: Micky and Kath plan an adventure and two surprising things happen to Yuki at almost the same time. Stay tuned.


	15. The Warning

**Chapter Fourteen: The Warning**

Yuki, Melany and Kath were sitting around the kitchen table, eating a late dinner on Wednesday night. Barbara was at work and the Monkees were at a gig. As the clock chimed nine and Melany took a bite of salad, Kath said:

"I can't believe it's been one month already."

"Me neither," Yuki agreed. "It's weird how well we've all adjusted. We've really started to build a life here, haven't we?"

Melany shrugged. "If you mean that we all have jobs and we're doing things like making pot roasts on Wednesday evenings then yes, we have."

"Did you see that Mister Super Stud came into Frog's today?" Kath asked Yuki, referring to the man that had asked Barbara to dance on their second day there.

"Oh yeah," she said smirking. "He said hi to me."

"Lucky!" Kath exclaimed.

"Did Barbara ever do anything else with him?" Melany asked.

Kath shrugged. "I think they've hung out once or twice, but other than that, no. I think she's into Davy."

Yuki rolled her eyes. "Now you're starting to sound like her."

"Just what my spidey senses have picked up on," Kath said, going back to her pot roast.

"You think we'll be here forever?" Melany asked. "One month and all we've seen is our bags get sent back, too. Maybe that was a sign that we're here for good, not that we're gonna be rescued."

The other two girls were silent. Yuki was privately thinking that she didn't need to be rescued at all; she really liked it there. It didn't feel like a trap anymore.

Kath caught her eye and Yuki could tell that the blonde was thinking the same thing. But neither of them shared this with Melany.

"You never know," Yuki said eventually. "It might be harder to get something back then send something out."

"True." Melany seemed satisfied with that comment for the moment. The door opened.

"Hey Micky," Yuki said. "Help yourself to pot roast."

"What-say ladies," he greeted the girls and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. He lifted the lid of the crock-pot and peered inside. "Looks good. Who made it?"

"Barbara and Kath," Melany said. "Our resident chefs."

"Groovy." Micky said, sitting down at the table with the girls.

"Where're the other guys?" Yuki asked as he ate.

"They went out for a beer, but since I don't drink I thought I'd just come home," he shrugged. "It's been a busy couple weeks, anyway. Kinda felt like relaxing here for once."

"I get that," Melany said with a nod.

"Hey Micky," Kath began slowly. It looked like she was about to say something she didn't really want to say. "Where did you say you were from, again? Your hometown?"

"Painesmeadow," he said. "Up north a ways."

She nodded. "Is it nice there?"

"Oh yeah, real nice."

"How far is it?"

"'Bout a day's drive. Why?"

"Yeah, what's up Kath?" Yuki asked. Kath bit her lip.

"Okay, here's the deal. You guys know that I'm adopted, right?" The others nodded. "Well, my birth mother was actually born in California. She lived here until she was fifteen."

"Really?" Melany asked, wide-eyed. "That's a weird coincidence."

"It's even weirder because when Micky told us where he was from, I realized that that was her hometown, too. They're both from Painesmeadow."

"What?" Micky dropped his fork. "Your mom lives in Painesmeadow?"

"Is she there – like, right now?" Yuki asked. Kath slowly nodded.

"She should be. She's seven right now."

There was a pause in the conversation as everyone took in the strangeness of the situation.

"This is so weird," Melany muttered.

"You're telling me!" Kath exclaimed. "The woman I never got to meet who gave birth to me is a day's drive away from where I'm living in nineteen sixty-seven."

"I suppose you want to go there," Melany said.

Kath looked at Micky. "That's why I brought it up. I was wondering if, since you know the town and how to get there, you might be able to take me."

"Of course I can take you," Micky said without hesitation. "I haven't been there in a long time since my family moved away, but I can still get you there."

Kath let out a breath of relief. Micky laughed.

"Did you think I'd say no?"

She smiled. "I didn't know what to expect."

"Let's go week after next," he said, glancing at the calendar on the wall behind him. "We don't have any gigs then. It'll take us a couple days to get there and back."

"Perfect." Kath said. "Thank you so much, Micky. It really means a lot."

"Sure thing."

"Wait – " Melany cut in. Yuki knew what was coming. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Another one of your rules, Mel?" Micky asked, not unkindly.

She gave him a look and then turned to Kath. "Just – just be careful, all right? Interacting with your _mother_ , even though she wasn't the woman who raised you, is a bit risky."

"She's seven, Mel," Kath said. "I don't think I'm going to alter any big life decisions by saying hello."

Yuki could tell that Melany was restraining herself from saying more. She herself, however, thought it was a perfect way for Kath to get closure.

"I'll be careful," Kath promised. "But I do think that it's best if this is a small trip. I don't know if you guys wanted to come, but it'll probably be better with fewer people – "

"Of course," Yuki said. She was grateful for Kath's politeness, but knew the offer was only being extended out of obligation. This was a personal journey. "We're not taking a road trip. This is something just for you. Well, and your driver."

Kath gave her a grateful nod. "Thanks, Yuki."

A while later, after everything had been cleaned up, Yuki was sitting outside on the porch, writing in her journal by the glow of the porch light. She heard the door open and looked up to see that Peter had joined her.

"Hi," she greeted. "How was your gig?"

"A real gas," he said. "I'm glad we'll be at that place for a while. It's a fun crowd."

"Far out."

"Hey, Yuki?" Peter asked. He sat down on the chair next to her. "Do you want to go on a date sometime? With me?"

Yuki, startled, set her journal down. The nonchalant way he had spoken had caught her off-guard. Her hands, for some strange reason, were shaking a bit and she folded them in her lap.

"I appreciate the offer, Peter," she began slowly. She looked at him right in the eyes, hoping he would understand her sincerity. "But…I just don't think it's a good idea for us to get involved in that way. I could leave at any moment, we're roommates … it just – it doesn't seem like the best way to go for our relationship."

Right after she spoke those words, she realized that they might just be excuses. But she pushed the thoughts away. She'd just assumed that her feelings for Peter were simple friendship; the two doves that talked together easily and always challenged each other's ideas should just remain friends. But she also assumed that none of the girls had plans to get romantically involved with the Monkees – they lived together, as she had said, and she didn't think it would work out well to date the people you lived with. Also, if they began coupling up, leaving would be even more difficult when the time came. She had conditioned herself to always go back to these thoughts when feelings for Peter flashed across her mind.

"I hope you understand," she added, earnestly.

Peter nodded. He didn't seem upset by her words. "I do. I thought you might say something like that," he didn't say this in an accusatory tone, but rather one of general conversation as if pointing out the fact that it was dark outside. "That's why I didn't ask you sooner, but I thought it might be worth a try."

Yuki smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's fine," Peter said, leaning back in his chair next to her. "Guess we'll just enjoy the little things until you get sucked back to two thousand and sixteen."

Yuki's heart grew uncomfortably heavy at these words, even though she knew he meant it as jovially as possible. She lifted her knees up and placed her journal against them, continuing to write as Peter sat next to her.

They chatted casually as she filled the pages and, as she turned the page to begin another one, she saw that it already had writing on it. Large red letters in a handwriting that was _not_ hers proclaimed, in all capitals: BEWARE THE MONKEES.

She shot a glance at Peter, who was still chatting on about the new song he was working on. He hadn't noticed anything. She shut the book.

* * *

As the four girls were about to turn out the lights, alone in their bedroom, Yuki brought up what she had found in her journal.

"It was in the backpack Professor Darling sent back. It must be a message from him. It just took me this long to find it because it was hidden in my diary."

"Well, what do you think it means?" Barbara asked. "Surely it's not true, right?"

Yuki shrugged. "Remember, we still don't know them _that_ well."

Kath shook her head. "Yes, we do. They're the most genuine people I've met in a long time. I don't believe that note for one minute."

"Me neither," said Barbara, crossing her arms. "Darling's crazy, remember?"

"But he knows about them," Yuki said. She didn't think that the boys were untrustworthy at all, though it was worth questioning how Professor Darling would know about them and why he would take time to write them that message. "Why would he want to warn us about them?"

Melany, who had been silently pondering the whole thing, spoke up. "I don't think we can make any assumptions on this letter. It sounds to me like Darling has some kind of connection with the Monkees and it's obviously not a good one."

"Should we ask them about it?" Yuki asked.

"No," Barbara said immediately. "It's stupid. It doesn't mean anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Yuki, have you ever once felt unsafe around them? What would we 'beware-ing'? They've shown us nothing but kindness."

Yuki nodded. "I agree, don't get me wrong. But I just want to make sure we're covering all our bases here."

"Let's keep it in mind, but not bring it up," Kath said simply. "It won't do any good to get them started thinking that we don't trust them anymore."

"We _do_ trust them!" Barbara said. "That note is nothing."

"Exactly." Kath agreed. The other two remained quiet.

"Fine with me," Melany said. "I have no qualms with them. They're pretty good guys in the future, too. So I wouldn't worry."

Yuki nodded. "Sounds good to me." She tore the page out of her notebook and ripped it up.

* * *

Chapter fifteen is when it FINALLY HAPPENS: ROMANCE. BETWEEN TWO CHARACTERS. GET READY, PEOPLE.


	16. When Love Comes Knockin' at Your Door

**Chapter Fifteen: When Love Comes Knockin' At Your Door**

Several days later, after another gig at The Little Club Downtown, Barbara and the rest of the girls were helping the boys pack up. They had played later than usual and the sun had long since set. As Barbara placed the last remaining guitar in the back seat of the car, she paused for a moment to appreciate the absolute perfection of the night.

Micky jumped into the drivers' seat, quickly followed by the rest of the group save Davy and Barbara.

Davy stepped out from the back door of the club. "Barbara, c'mere. I wanna show you something."

"Aw, come on guys, let's go," Micky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. "It's late enough already."

"Just go on ahead without us," Barbara said. "It's a really nice night, we can just walk back."

"You sure?" Micky asked. Barbara looked at Davy and he nodded. "All right then!"

The car sped off, leaving Barbara and Davy alone in the back parking lot. A gentle breeze pushed her hair out of her eyes and moved her skirt, fluttering it against her legs.

She turned toward Davy and followed him inside the now-empty club. Tugging on his sleeve, she leaned close and whispered into his ear. "What did you want to show me?"

He closed the door. A dim light from behind the stage kept them in shadow.

"Nothing. I just wanted to do this," he said as he took her waist in his hands and kissed her.

She smiled into the kiss and returned it, resting against the door they had just entered through.

He moved closer, her fingers wound into his hair, and Barbara found her thoughts turning to the past two weeks. About a week before the incident with the cat, Davy had pulled her aside one night after she had gotten back late from work and told her that he was falling in love with her. Though she hardly believed someone could fall in love that quickly, there had been something stirring in her own heart as well.

She'd been attracted to Davy from the moment she woke up on the beach, and over the first couple of weeks she realized that she liked him for more than his deep brown eyes and charming, flirtatious personality; he was witty, intuitive and thoughtful. She enjoyed spending time with him. And, truthfully, she had been dying to tell him that for a while. After his confession, they began a secret little something – not quite a relationship, but not just hooking up either. Barbara referred to it as their own little tryst.

The two of them would sneak away for a quick kiss while the others were occupied, hang back after shows and, on the rare occasions that the house was empty, or they were completely alone, have even _more_ fun. The past two weeks had been a lovely blur of simplicity and pleasure, Barbara reminisced, as she tightened her arms around Davy's neck.

"I love you," Davy said, pulling away just enough that their noses still touched. He traced Barbara's face with his hand.

She smiled, but shook her head. "Davy, you can't love me after just a month."

"Why can't I?" He feigned indigence, and kissed her again anyway.

"Because," she said, pulling back and taking his hand. "Nobody can fall in love that fast."

"By nobody do you mean you?" He nuzzled into the crook of her neck, trailing kisses over her shoulder.

She sighed. "I'm not as romantic as you are. People don't fall in love with me."

Davy drew back and looked almost sad at these words. "You just have to let them, Barbara. You have these – these walls up. You're such an open, honest person, but you still can't let people in sometimes. Even those of us who _want_ to love you."

She listened to him. She knew she was closed off to healthy romantic relationships – that much was clear with her past boyfriends, who really had been more like hook-up buddies than actual significant others. Going into the tryst with Davy, she had assumed that he had just wanted that same old thing. That was, until he started saying "love" all the time.

"But I'm going to leave," she said. "It'll be harder to say goodbye."

"It might be harder, but that's not a good reason to not do it. I'll do it while I can, and you should, too."

Barbara felt a bit strange.

"Does that mean you think we should tell the rest of them?" She laughed.

Davy rolled his eyes and pushed open the door to lead her outside. "I don't know about that. I think Mike might go ape."

"Yuki would, too," she said. "I think she's under the impression that it's a given that none of us would be romantically involved."

"Four boys and four girls living in a house together? It's a recipe for romance. Hasn't she ever watched TV before?"

Barbara took his hand again and the two of them began a leisurely walk back to the Pad.

When they finally made it back, they discovered a dark, silent house.

"Everyone must be asleep," Davy whispered.

"Good."

Barbara danced over to the couch, pulling Davy behind her, and shoved him down playfully.

"I love this side of you." He smirked.

"You love _every_ side of me."

She climbed up on him pressed her mouth against his. He wrapped his arms around her and began tracing circles in the small of her back. They continued in this vein for a little while when…

The lights flicked on.

Barbara shot up, nearly crushing Davy's chest with her palm, and looked toward the porch door to see Melany standing there, hand over her mouth at what she was witnessing.

"Hey Mel," Barbara said with a weak wave.

"Oh. My. God."

"Melany!" Davy said jovially, sitting up next to Barbara. He gave her shirt a tug; it had ridden up to expose her stomach. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"How long has _this_ been going on?" Melany smirked, pointing to them.

"Oh, I don't know," Barbara said looking at Davy, who shook his head and shrugged. "Not too long. Right Davy?"

"Right, yeah," he said standing up and buttoning the shirt that Barbara had begun to remove. "Not long at all."

"Uh huh…" Melany said. Her smile grew.

"We, um, thought everyone was asleep," Barbara said.

Melany laughed. "Oh no, we're all outside. We were making s'mores. I'm just coming in to get more marshmallows. But this is _much_ more exciting."

Davy stifled a laugh. Barbara shoved him.

"HEY GUYS, GUESS WHAT!?" Melany turned and shouted down the beach.

"Melany – no!" Davy and Barbara's grins faded when they realized what she was going to do. "Please don't tell!"

"WHAT IS IT, MEL?" Mike hollered back.

Melany, uncharacteristically chatty, shouted: "COME HERE, ALL OF YOU. I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU!"

"You're horrible," Davy stated.

"Oh, don't flip your wig."

"It was gonna happen sooner or later, Davy," Barbara stood up next to him.

"What is it?" Mike walked in, looking around and noticing the two of them standing by the couch. "Them? We know what Davy and Barbara look like – oh good gracious." He stopped, doing a double take, and put two and two together. He looked from Davy and Barbara to Melany and back. She nodded. "I _knew_ it!"

"What?" Peter asked. "I don't get it." And then, "Davy, why do you have lipstick all over – _ohhhhh_."

"Barbara, really?" Yuki gasped.

Kath laughed and clapped her hands.

"Totally called it," she said.

"No surprises here," Micky said with a grin. Yuki seemed to be the only one who wasn't pleased at the revelation.

"You all knew?" She said, looking around.

"No, we didn't _know_ , but I figured it would happen sooner or later," Mike said with a shrug.

"But weren't you hanging out with that super stud Jimmy from the club? The one with the stubble and glasses?" Yuki was rubbing her temples as though this was difficult for her to grasp.

" _Who_?" Davy demanded. Barbara brushed it away.

"Not anymore, don't worry," she said, and then added in a whisper: "I never even kissed him."

Davy seemed satisfied with this statement. Mike, however seemed perturbed.

"Jimmy? Jimmy who?"

"Oh, I don't think he ever told me his last name," Barbara said. "Not a big deal though. Nothing ever happened."

Mike started to ask another question, but Peter interrupted: "Want some s'mores, you two lovebirds?"

Barbara and Davy exchanged a look. He smiled and took her hand. "Sure." And they followed the rest of the group out to the beach.


	17. Conversations With Melany Hugh

**Chapter Sixteen: Conversations [with Melany Hugh]**

Monday morning the week following their last gig dawned bright and sunny. Mike was sitting outside writing a song. It wasn't "The Girl I Knew Somewhere," that one was nearly finished. This one was different; happier and bouncier than his recent melancholy tunes. He still didn't have a name for it.

Through the open window, he heard someone come down the stairs, and turned his head to see Micky meet Kath at the base of the steps, both of them with bags over their shoulders. He watched them leave through the front door, but didn't think much of it and went back to writing.

However, he didn't get very far when his gaze drifted out over the beach. He saw Barbara down there, on a blanket close to the water. Yuki was next to her. She looked like she was trying to learn yoga, mimicking Barbara's graceful stretches with awkward, wobbly movements that were the sure sign of a beginner. He smiled, and strummed a few more chords, humming softly. It was noticeable to him now, after a month and a half, how much life the girls had brought to their little family. After the encounter with Jim, the end of what had once been a positive friendship in the boys' lives, they had slipped, almost unnoticeably, into a funk – songwriting was sporadic, and everything that came of it seemed to be slow, sad tunes.

Barbara's laugh echoed from down the beach. Mike looked up and saw that Yuki had fallen down. He chuckled, reminded again at how glad he was that these sunny girls had dropped into their lives. He picked at the guitar strings, singing softly, " _She can send you on your way to everywhere…"_ Writing songs was easy again.

But there was still one thing nagging at him. _Darling_.

The name being the same between their ex-friend and the girls' professor could not be coincidence. And Barbara mentioning a Jimmy a few nights previously had brought all those nicely tucked away worries back to the front of his mind. It was too close, too similar to be a fluke. But the fact remained that he didn't know for sure.

He wanted to know for sure. He wanted to talk to Melany, the one who knew _him_ , who knew _The Monkees_ in the future. He felt like she was a bit more cautious and protective of their situation, and whether or not she needed to be, she seemed more inclined than the rest of the girls to seriously discuss anything potentially troublesome. He recalled her mentioning that she had to work that day, though. He checked his watch: 9:30. He could see her eating breakfast at the kitchen table. He knew she worked at 10, so it looked like he might have to wait until after her shift to catch her, hopefully alone.

Davy came out and joined him, then, followed by Peter.

"How's the new song coming along?" Peter asked, still a bit sleepy. Davy was crunching on toast.

"I think it's gonna be pretty groovy," Mike said, and began to play a rough version of song he was referring to in his head as "Sunny." As he played, he saw Melany pick up her purse and leave, turning around with a wave to the boys outside the window.

"Yeah, I like it!" Davy said. Peter nodded. "It reminds me of them."

He nodded toward the two girls down on the beach.

"I'd be lying if I said they didn't help with it." Mike admitted. "But listen, fellas, there's something that I've been thinking about lately…" He recounted his worries about the Darlings to both of the boys. Davy and Peter exchanged a look.

"Look Mike, if you're really worried we can do a little checking up on him," Davy said.

"You sure? I'm not trying to overreact, but something just doesn't feel right about it to me."

"'Course Mike," Peter said. "I'll go check him out tomorrow and see if anything's fishy."

Mike was relieved. "Thanks Pete. I'm glad you guys don't think I'm crazy."

"Not at all," Davy replied easily, finishing off his toast. "It's worth looking into."

"Hey, where did Mick go?" Peter asked suddenly, noticing his absence.

The other two shrugged.

"He'll turn up."

After Mike returned home that night, after an evening out with Davy, Barbara and Peter (Yuki had gone into work and they hadn't heard from Melany), he felt like a walk on the beach. The sun had just gone down and darkness was quickly covering the sky as he strolled down, heading in the direction that led toward town.

He wasn't thinking about anything in particular when he noticed a small figure sitting on a rock near the water, down the beach a ways from the place they had picked up the four girls. He noticed the long braid down her back. He stepped closer, to be sure, and even in the darkness he could tell – it was Melany.

Not wanting to disturb her, but also shocked that he'd caught her in a moment alone, he decided to approach her. He froze, however, about two yards behind, when he heard her sniffing. She moved her hand up to her face and he realized that she was crying.

Holding his breath, he began to step slowly backwards, praying that she wouldn't hear his heart beating and that he could just slip away into the night, the sound of the waves covering any footsteps.

"It's okay, Nes." She used the nickname she so rarely called him, and patted the spot on the rock next to her without turning around.

"Caught me, huh?" He said. And then, "How did you know it was me?"

"Just had a feeling," her voice sounded stuffy. "Also, I saw you walking down the beach."

"But it's dark. How could you tell?" He walked around the rock and sat down beside her.

"Your hat," she said simply. "You have a very distinct silhouette."

She glanced over at him then, and he noticed her red eyes. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them.

"Are you okay?" He asked. She had seemed fine over the past couple of days. Quiet and withdrawn, but not anything out of the ordinary for Melany.

"Not really," she said with a bit of a laugh. "I don't really need to be crying over it, though. It's just – it would be Christmas back home today. I know it's August here, right now, but it just got me thinking about it all over again – my family, home, all of it."

Mike's stomach dropped. He hadn't realized that she'd been keeping track like that, but it made sense.

"I really like it here," she said, earnestly. "But I do miss my mom and little sister a lot sometimes."

"You have every right to," he said. "I'm sorry you can't see them."

"Thanks."

"Merry Christmas."

She sighed and he noticed a smile. "It's weird, isn't it?"

"You can say that again."

There was a little pause.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked him.

"Just walking. But hey Mel, I was gonna try to talk to you."

She perked up at this, turning her head towards him. "What's up?"

"You said your professor's last name was Darling, right?" She nodded. "Do you know his first name?"

Melany's eyebrows creased. "No, I don't."

"But you said he's old, right? Like…seventies?"

She nodded slowly. "What's this about?"

Mike explained, starting from the beginning, two years previously, when they had befriended Jim Darling, and ending with the more recent destructive end-of-friendship argument.

"And you think they might be the same person?" Melany asked after he finished. "And that us getting sent back to here, this time, might be because of what happened?"

Mike shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But Darling isn't a common last name, and his age is what gets me. It's spot on. Our friend Jim is twenty-eight."

Melany was thoughtful. "I wondered when I saw you and Davy look at each other on that first day if that name triggered something for you. I'm surprised we haven't talked about it until now."

"It might be nothing, but I just have a strange feeling about it that I can't shake."

Melany cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. "What does he look like?"

Mike thought for a moment. "Dark curly hair, glasses, always has a little bit of stubble…he's a good-lookin' guy, I'd say."

"What shape are his glasses?"

Mike closed his eyes. "Rectangle," he said eventually. "Oh, and he's got this real thin scar on his cheek."

Melany's eyes went wide as he said this. "That's the guy Barbara went out with a few times, it _has_ to be. I remember a little scar. She said his name was Jimmy."

Mike's heart began to race.

"And he's been in the library sometimes while I'm working. I thought it was just a coincidence…but do you think it's not? Do you think he's spying on us?"

"I don't know, but I don't like the sound of that." Mike was worried. But maybe Jim had no idea that the girls were with the Monkees at all. Maybe none of it mattered.

"Did you professor have the scar?"

Melany shrugged. "I never noticed one, but he _did_ have a lot of wrinkles. Maybe that covered it up a bit. I don't know."

"Well, Peter's gonna check it out tomorrow and see if anything 'round his office is out of the ordinary."

"Good. I hope it's not a big deal," Melany said, but she didn't sound confident. "But wait – " She told him about the cryptic note in Yuki's diary.

"Well, I was gonna say that the odds are probably so slim that it's the same guy," Mike replied, visibly unnerved at these words. "But now I'm not so sure."

"We don't believe it, obviously," Melany said, referring to the note. "We just didn't want to freak you out, so that's why I haven't brought it up."

"I understand," Mike was not upset. He was too busy trying to convince himself as much as her that it was okay. "Let's not get too worried about it now."

"Deal." They fell into silence again.

"Mike," Melany asked after a moment. "What do you usually do for Christmas?"

The question caught him off-guard. "I usually go home to Texas to see my family. But this last year I stayed here with the guys."

"Sounds like fun."

"It wasn't bad, actually. There was a bit of snag with this boy we got stuck babysitting, but it all worked out real nice in the end."

She smiled.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just 'cause I still feel like I don't know a whole lot about you," she said simply. "We don't talk very much, just the two of us."

"But don't you know my whole future?" He was confused; she'd seen how his life turns out. At least, the side he would end up displaying to the public.

She laughed. "I know the future of your _career_ , but not anything about _you_."

He wanted to smack himself. Of course that's all she would know. He suddenly felt bad that he had always assumed she knew everything.

"And because I'm feeling generous tonight I'm going to tell you something: you guys make it."

His heart leapt and he turned toward her.

"Are you being serious? You can't kid me like this, Mel."

She nodded, but then pulled her fingers across her lips like she was zipping them shut. "But that's all I'm gonna say. Okay?"

Happy with the news, even if he didn't know all the details, Mike nodded.

"But now you have to tell me about your life. I want this to get personal, Michael Nesmith," she said, poking him in the chest playfully.

Suddenly, he realized that there was a lot more to Melany Hugh than the quiet girl who made snarky comments every once in a while. There was a genuine, curious, warm spirit in the woman across from him. Mike obliged to her request and they spent the next while talking about everything from childhood to adulthood to nothing at all.

After their conversation reached a natural lull, Melany said:

"Hey, and about what you said the other day, about how we weren't ruining anyone's lives, we were bringing them new life – did you mean that?"

Their shoulders touching, Mike could feel her tense up as she spoke.

He nodded. "'Course I did. It's the truth."

He could feel her relief and she leaned closer to him for just a moment before pulling back. "Groovy."

They sat there for a little while longer, until the last of late-night beach walkers were long gone. At the end of the evening, as he said goodnight and left her at the bottom of the stairs, Mike began to worry. Not because of the Darling problem, or because of the warning note but because he felt like the imaginary girl that he was singing about in "Sunny Girlfriend," as Davy had suggested on calling his new song, was less about the four girls together and more about just one of them.

* * *

Thank you TimeSpace64 for your super nice and lovely review! Keep on groovin. Next: a guy writing a letter to himself, and then a road trip.


	18. Love Letters to Myself

**Chapter Seventeen: Love Letters To Myself**

Jim Darling was sitting at his office desk in 1967, vigorously penning a letter that went like this:

 _Jim,_

 _The four girls are now strong friends with the Monkees. If they received your warning, it was not heeded. They have settled here, and it appears as though they are accepting the fact that they may stay here indefinitely. One of them has even become romantically involved with Davy Jones. There have been no noticeable long-term effects of their time travel that I can tell; they appear healthy._

 _Patiently awaiting your next instructions –_

 _Jim_

After finishing the letter, Jim slipped it inside an envelope and then, crouching down underneath his desk, he lifted a loose floorboard and dropped the letter underneath. Then, he rose, sat at his desk and waited.

The response appeared particularly quickly this time; he had only to wait ten minutes for another white envelope to appear on his desk with the _whoosh_ of an impossible breeze.

That was how it had gone over the course of the last six weeks: Jim and his future self communicated by Jim writing letters and placing them in the office floor, which would then be picked up by future Jim's contact person in 2016, who still lived in Malibu and had access to the office. The contact would then send a photo of the letter Jim in Indianapolis, who would be able to write something and immediately send it back in time to the location of his choice with the time machine.

Jim opened the new letter.

 _Jim,_

 _Thank you for watching the girls so closely. I am disappointed they did not seem to be impacted by the warning, but it is no matter. I plan to be arriving soon, but I want to give them a bit more time to bond with the Monkees. This will make phase two of the plan much easier, I believe. I will send word when I decide to make the journey myself. Continue to keep an eye on them._

 _Jim_


	19. Road Trip

**Chapter Eighteen: Road Trip**

"Do you ever miss Painesmeadow?" Kath asked from the passenger seat.

They had been driving for about three hours. It was a perfect day for the long stretches of back roads that Micky had chosen to get them to his old hometown; partly sunny, mild and clear. The convertible, though destroying Kath's hair by whipping it into knots, was exhilarating, and she was enjoying the drive.

Micky shrugged, one hand on the steering wheel. "Sometimes. We moved when I was so young though. It's a bit nostalgic to think about every so often, but I don't wish I was there."

"Thanks again for doing this for me, Micky," Kath said. She knew she had already thanked him a dozen times, but whenever she thought about the next six hours that lay before them on the road, and how Micky could be doing other things on this beautiful day instead of driving her across the state, she felt a bit guilty.

Micky gave her a sideways look. "Freckles," he said sternly. "You've already thanked me a dozen times."

She avoided eye-contact bashfully.

"You are _welcome,_ okay? I'm happy to do it." His gaze returned to the road.

"Okay."

Kath watched the fields whip by on either side of them. They passed houses and barns that reminded her of the Midwest she knew in the future. They were in the boonies right now as they took shortcuts through the rural towns.

Normally, on long car trips, Kath would listen to the music on her phone. But the phone that had been sent back along with her backpack had long since run out of battery, with no way to recharge it.

Earlier that week, she had walked for a long time up the beach until she had reached the cliffs. She had found the highest one she could and, standing at the edge, the wind tossing her hair all around her face, flung the phone into the sea. She remembered watching it smash against the rocks, splintering before disappearing wholly into the waves crashing beneath her. After it was completely out of sight, she realized that the last tether to her time was officially gone; no more photos, old emails, or texts to read through. With no way to recharge the battery, what was the point?

She had felt a little strange ever since that day, and she told Micky the story.

"…And now I don't really know what to think. Does it mean that I unconsciously gave up on ever going back?"

Micky was silent for a moment. She knew he wouldn't fully be able to understand the attachment to cell phones that existed in 2016, and how monumental letting go of that specific material item was for her. But as she watched his eyebrows crease in thought, she knew he was trying to.

"I think it means that you've accepted where you are."

She felt better. "It's been nice, not having a phone. People in the future are addicted to them. I've had more intimate, uninterrupted conversations with you four in the past month and half than I've had with some of my college acquaintances in nearly four years."

"Really?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yes. They distract everyone. I always had mine out in front of me, even when I wasn't doing anything. It was such a waste of time." She gazed around at the beauty of the open road before her. Had her phone still been with her, she would have been refreshing Instagram for the fifteenth time by now. "I kind of feel like I'm seeing the world more now. All the time. _Seeing_ it."

"I don't ever want one of those things," Micky stated simply.

"Please keep that attitude once we get into the nineties."

"We?"

She hadn't even realized what she'd said until then. "Might as well go on living as though I'll be here for a while," she said smoothly. As Micky turned back to face the road, she watched a small smile flash across his face. "Why, aren't you really excited for us to get out? Four extra roommates aren't too much yet?"

"Well, it's August and nobody's mentioned trying to find another apartment, have they?"

"Oh yeah," Kath had completely forgotten their initial plan to reevaluate when more items became available on the market. The boys had been having more gigs lately, the girls all had jobs. They could probably afford to split up now, but if anyone else had remembered, nobody had spoken up.

Kath was surprised at how easy their conversation flowed; she had been a bit apprehensive about a day in the car alone with Micky, as they hadn't spent too many periods of time like this – one on one, with nobody else to pick up the slack of dropped conversation.

About halfway through their journey, the Monkeemobile sputtered. It bounced, jerked around and began to slow down.

"Oh no," Micky groaned, gently steering it off the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Kath asked, following him as he exited the car.

He lifted the hood and peered inside at the engine. When he had made a diagnosis, he looked up at Kath and posited her a question:

"Can you help me fix this? Few people know, but I'm actually a great mechanic."

"If you're such a great mechanic then why do you need my – "

At that moment, as if her question was a cue, Kath noticed that Micky was no longer wearing his flared brown pants and button-up shirt. He was dressed in dark blue coveralls, dark smudges of dirt and grease on his face, hair even more wild than it had been after half a day of driving in a convertible. He was holding out his hand to Kath.

She looked down at herself and noticed that her pink and blue paisley dress had changed. She wore high waisted denim cutoffs and a checkered blue and white blouse that was knotted at the waist, revealing a sliver of her stomach. She looked at her legs and arms, noticing grease smudges everywhere and realized then that she had the "sexy assistant" role in this scenario.

She gave Micky a look. "Whose idea was _this_?"

He looked her up and down and shrugged, smirking. "Not mine, I'm sad to say."

"Micky!" She handed him the wrench from the tool belt she had around her waist, smacking it a bit roughly into his hand.

"Cool it, doll," he said in his character voice, leaning over the hood. "Just stand there lookin' pretty and hand me what I need, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, all right."

After a few minutes of his tinkering and her handing him tools as he asked for them, she had had enough.

"Got it yet?" She asked.

He gave her a look. "Listen, babe, this is a delicate situation and – "

"It's all show and no go is what it is."

He gave her a sideways glare. "You think you can do better?"

"Move," she said simply, grabbing the wrench out of his hand and shoving him over.

Kath had neglected to tell him, but her adoptive father was a car mechanic. She had watched him solve this kind of problem many times, and as she peered over the lid, she hoped to be able to recall the necessary steps.

She sat back after a few moments, holding out the wrench to Micky. As she turned to face him, she noticed his eyes immediately flick upward and his face go red. "Were you looking at my ass?"

"No!"

She sighed, shaking her head. "Try starting the car now."

"You think you did it?"

"Let's see," Kath said, confidently. Micky raised an eyebrow and hopped into the drivers' seat.

The car started easily and he whistled. "Outta sight. You know your stuff, Freckles."

She whooped, slammed the hood down and climbed over the car door into the passenger seat. Their clothes were back to normal.

"I have to tell you," she said, reaching over and wiping a remaining grease smudge off Micky's nose. "You actually already had it fixed, I just pretended to do something else."

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then laughed.

"Isn't that dumb," he muttered, shaking his head.

* * *

After another little while, they stopped for lunch. Over hamburgers at a truck stop diner, the conversation turned to Davy and Barbara.

"What do you think about it?" Kath asked him.

"I think it's fine," he said with a shrug.

"Not amazing?"

"The thing you gotta know about Davy is that he goes with a lot of girls," Micky said carefully, watching Kath to gauge her reaction.

"Well, I get the idea that Barbara goes with a lot of guys, so maybe they'll be just fine."

"He _does_ seem to like her more than normal, though," Micky said thoughtfully. "And to be honest, this is the longest he's gone steady with a chick in a while."

Nodding, Kath reached over a grabbed a fry off Micky's plate. He shooed her away.

"Hey, you coulda just ordered your own, you know."

"What about Peter?" she asked, changing the subject.

"What about what about Peter?"

"Do you think he digs Yuki?"

Micky nodded vigorously. "Oh yes. He told me he did."

Kath slammed her hand on the table. "I _knew_ it!"

"Cool it," Micky laughed. "It's pretty obvious, really."

"Think Yuki likes him, too?"

"You know her better than I do."

"I can't read her at all most of the time. I have no idea."

He paused. "I bet she does."

"That only leaves Melany, Mike and us then," Kath joked.

Micky rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly, this isn't a sitcom." He looked to the left pointedly, as if into a camera.

Kath laughed, her thoughts turning suddenly to her mother. She took a sip of her iced tea and said:

"You know what I want to know most?"

"What Yuki's tattoos are? Because that's what _I_ want to know."

She gave him a look. "No, I mean about my mom."

"What?"

"If I look like her."

* * *

Back on the road again, as they neared Painesmeadow, Kath began to grow anxious. The sky above was fading as a mixture of overcast sky and evening light fell around them. She began to worry; what if her mother wasn't there? What if they couldn't find her?

She voiced these concerns to Micky, and he waved them off. "It's all gonna be copasetic, Kath."

"But Mick – what if it isn't copasetic? What if we drove all this way for nothing?"

"It wasn't for nothing, even if we don't find her."

"Yes it was," Kath knew she was beginning to get annoying now. Though she was pretty relaxed most of the time, when something set her off, it was difficult for her to regain control of her nerves.

"Kath, no it's not," he said firmly as they passed the sign that said they were entering Painesmeadow. "Now listen, what was your mom's name again? I'm gonna stop here and ask if anyone knows where she lives."

They had pulled into a gas station. Kath took a sharp breath, trying to calm herself down.

"Jan Riley. She'd be about seven now."

"Okay." He reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "Listen, babe. Whatever happens, don't worry about it. Today was a good day, regardless of if we find her or not."

She nodded, not saying a word.

She watched Micky head into the gas station. He returned a moment later, a triumphant smile on his face.

"334 Frost Avenue," he said.

"Oh my god."

"Told the guy we were long lost cousins passing through for a visit."

She broke into a smile despite her stress. "Quick thinker."

They followed the directions that the gas station attendant had given Micky and within a few minutes they had reached a neighborhood one street over from Frost Avenue.

"Let's park here," Kath said. "That way it doesn't look like we're stalking them."

Micky pulled over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. Kath didn't move.

"Come on," Micky said, getting up and dragging her out by the arm. "Don't make me carry you."

"I don't know if I can do this," she said, shaking her head.

"Yes you can. You fixed a car today – you can say hi to your seven year old mom," he paused. "Boy, I'll never get used to saying things like that."

" _You_ fixed the car!"

"Well _you_ did a great job handing me tools," He said impatiently, pulling her out of the door and standing her up. "Let's go."

Kath suddenly snapped back into reality and pulled her wallet out of the pocket in her dress. She opened it up and looked at the small picture of her six-year-old self inside; a small, freckly girl with reddish-blonde hair and wide blue eyes. It had been the first time she had ever gotten a "professional photo" taken, right before her then-foster parents had shipped her off to the next set, who would eventually adopt her.

She showed Micky. "That _might_ be what she looks like. I always used to pretend this was her."

He touched her back. "All right," he said as they began walking.

They turned the corner onto Frost Avenue and counted the houses. Once they got to 330, Kath noticed a girl a couple houses down, drawing with chalk on the paved driveway. She froze.

"Mick," she whispered, heart racing. "Do you think that's her?"

"I can't tell from here. We need to get closer."

"Maybe we don't," Kath said, stepping back. "This is enough, right? It's probably her, and now I have my closure and we can go!"

"Kath!" He grabbed her by the arm again. "I know you're not this much of a chicken. Now go on." He marched her forward.

As they got closer, Kath noticed that the girl was around seven, and when the girl looked up at the strangers, her stomach dropped. Apart from her hair, which was much redder than Kath's had ever been, the little girl was almost identical to her photograph. She held out her wallet to Micky in disbelief.

He looked from the picture to the girl. "I guess that answers your question."

Suddenly finding strength she didn't know she had, she looked at Micky.

"I'll be right back," she said. He smiled.

She walked up to Jan Riley.

* * *

Wow I love that chapter. But the next one is good too. More Kath/Micky feelings up ahead: WATCH OUT.


	20. I'll Meet You at the Station

**Chapter Nineteen: I'll Meet You at the Station**

Micky watched Kath walk toward the little girl who looked so much like her. Though he put on a brave face, Micky was was worried how Kath would react if this trip ended without meeting her expectations; without the closure she needed. But as he watched her kneel down in front of the girl and begin talking, his anxiety vanished. At one point, she glanced over and gave him a nod; it was Jan.

Jan was a bit distracted by whatever she was drawing with her chalk, and sometimes her attention would stray, but at one point Kath said something that made her stop and begin talking back to her. She laughed. Micky watched them for the next few minutes. Kath sat down and joined her with the chalk. He wished he could hear what they were saying.

Then, she stood up. He watched her bid farewell, and the little girl hugged her suddenly, reaching around her legs. Kath bent down and returned the embrace, squeezing her eyes shut. She gave the girl one final wave and he heard her call out "Bye Jan," before she quickened her pace, heading towards him once again.

She looked at him; there was relief in her face, but her eyes were oddly bright, as though holding back tears. As she approached him, he held out his arm and she slipped into it, letting him lead her back to the car.

Once they had turned the corner and were out of view of Kath's mother, she stopped and covered her mouth with her hand to silence any sounds of crying that she was about to make.

"Hey, it's all right." His heart was hurting for whatever she was feeling. He put his arms around her in an embrace and she returned it eventually, her body shaking as she shed silent tears.

After a few long moments, she stopped. He rubbed her back slowly.

"I got your shirt wet," she said from over his shoulder.

"How will I ever forgive you?"

She laughed lightly, and pulled away wiping her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

She sniffed and nodded. Her eyes were red, but she had a shaky smile on her face. "I feel a lot better now."

"Just had to let it all out on my shirt, huh?"

She smacked his arm, the sadness gone from her expressive blue eyes. "You're the one who hugged me first."

He pulled her into his arms again. "And second, too."

As they headed out of town, Kath was quiet. Every so often Micky would glance at her, leaning over the car door, staring out into the fields as they passed by, apparently lost in thought.

The sun set, casting them into darkness as they approached a town called Melrose, a small blip on their journey home. It was late and Micky was growing tired. Kath had offered to drive, but as she didn't have a valid license in 1967, they'd both decided against the risk.

"Kath," he said with a yawn. "Hate to say it, but I think I need a break. What do you want to do tonight?"

She pulled herself away from her reverie and shrugged. "We can sleep in the car. If that's something you're okay with."

"You don't mind roughing it?"

She shook her head. "Nah. I would never sleep in the car in two thousand sixteen, but somehow I feel like it's safer here."

"It's fine with me, I've done it many times before."

He found a rest stop right before the entrance to Melrose and the two of them got out and stretched. Kath fished around in the back for the food she'd packed and produced two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

"Should've known this is what you'd bring," Micky said with an eye roll.

Kath's red lips were turned up in a smirk. "I asked Jan what her favorite food was."

"Don't tell me…"

"Yep." She raised the sandwich high. "I am my mother's daughter."

Shaking his head, the two of them climbed onto the hood of the car ("Don't tell Mike"), ate, and lay back, staring at the night sky.

"I wouldn't have been able to do this without you, Mick. Now I have this closure and it's – it's just _nice_. My mom made a lot of mistakes in her life, and that's why she gave me up even though she was pretty old when she had me. But it was good for me to see her this way, before all of those things happened. Young. Innocent."

He thought she might start crying again, but when he glanced over at her, she was smiling.

"You're some girl, Kath McConnell."

She gave him a sideways look.

"Can I tell you something?"

"I don't know. You've already told me a lot of things today. I think you're nearing your daily quota."

She elbowed him. "Seriously. I haven't even told any of the other girls this, yet. I don't know what they'll say."

"Hit me."

"I'm really happy that I'm here. In this year. I feel really _lucky_ to have been sent back in time. I like it here, I like the people, and I don't even miss Game of Thrones anymore."

Deciding not to ask what Game of Thrones was, Micky posed the question:

"If you had the choice to go or stay, what would you choose?"

She hesitated. "Is that really my choice, though? Wouldn't it get messy if I stayed?" She began rambling. "…Eventually I would run into myself as a baby in the nineties, so there would be two of me running around. We would overlap. Or maybe I'd just fade away from the future if I chose to stay here…"

Following her train of thought, he added, "But how would your mom be able to have you if you faded away? How would you even _get here_ then?"

She looked at him, shaking her head. "That's where it gets tricky. I don't know. Let's not think about it."

She was good at dodging questions, and she still hadn't answered his.

"But what would you choose, if you had to pick?"

She sat up and her shoulder brushed his. He hadn't realized how close together they had been. He watched her run a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Mick. There's good and bad reasons to stay and to go." She paused and he sat up too. "But I would highly consider staying here."

Relief washed over him at her words, however hypothetical they were.

"Good."

"Why?"

"Because I have to admit something. My reasons for taking you to Painesmeadow weren't as selfless as you think they were."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I had an ulterior motive."

"Which was…?"

"To spend time with you," he paused for just a moment. "I think I'm falling for a girl from two thousand sixteen."

He watched her face change into surprise and then, nose crinkling in a smile, joy. She leaned forward and pressed her red lips against his. She pulled back and managed to say, "I've been trying to hang out with you for so long. Ever since we both got locked in that stupid freezer."

He knew he had that big, ridiculous grin on his face as he stared at her, unable to look away.

"I think I'm falling for a musician from nineteen sixty-seven."

He laughed and he scooted closer to her on the hood of the car, placing a hand softly on her arm. He kissed her again, lingering, moving ever-so-slowly and savoring every moment. He could feel her smile.

Eventually, they both drew back. Kath's face was red and she laughed suddenly, reaching out and touching his lips.

"I got my lipstick all over you," she brought her freckled face close again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said as she cleaned him up.

They settled back on the hood of the car, this time much closer together. Kath's head was resting on his chest and Micky was playing lazily with the long blonde locks in front of him. The stars were many and dazzling this far from any large cities, shining so brightly that, along with the moon, they were able to see the fields around them quite easily.

He began to hum the song that Mike had nearly finished. The one he had chased guitar strings all around town for. Kath was quiet. Until –

"Mick, what song is that?"

"'The Girl that I Knew Somewhere.' Mike's not finished with it yet, though."

"I think I've heard it before."

"We haven't performed it anywhere yet. Maybe you heard him practicing it."

"I don't think so. I don't remember hearing it recently. It's like something I heard a long time ago."

She paused. He sang a few of the lines for her and then leaned over to look at her face. It was screwed up as though she were trying very hard to recall it.

"Why can't I remember where I heard it?" She sounded thoughtful, like she was very far away. "And you sound lovely, by the way."

"Thanks, babe." Micky sat up slowly, keeping his arm around her.

"I guess it doesn't matter," she said in reference to the song. She turned to face him with a smile and their lips met once more.

Suddenly, just as his hands found her waist, she pulled back sharply, eyes so wide he thought they might just fall out of her head.

"MICKY DOLENZ, I _MET YOU_. SIX YEARS AGO _._ "

He was confused. "What?!"

She took a breath, her hands on his shoulders. "Six years ago, my parents took me on vacation to Chicago and we stayed in this real swanky hotel. And while we were there my dad wanted to go to this concert, an old guy I'd never heard of. Apparently, the guy knew the hotel owner and was doing him a favor by playing a small show. So we go to the hotel restaurant and it was you, Mick. And you played that song. I remember because I liked it so much." Her eyes were shining again.

"And after the show, my parents stood in line to meet you and - oh my goodness, this is the part that always confused me! – you were really quiet towards me, even though you were warm to my parents. Back then I thought it was because my bangs were uneven or my acne was really bad, but now I know that it was because you _recognized me_. And after my parents said goodbye, I heard you say 'Bye Kath' and I always thought that was so _weird_ , because I couldn't remember my parents ever introducing me. But it was because you already knew me, even though I didn't know you." She was out of breath by the time she finished.

"So…you met me, in the future?"

She nodded. "You at age sixty-something and me at age sixteen, but still you and still me."

He couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

"That's wild. Wait – does that mean you end up going back to the future then?"

"No. Because it's already happened for me, even though it hasn't already happened for you. You see, the year two thousand and ten has already occurred in my life, even though it hasn't in yours."

He thought he understood. This time travel nonsense was making his head hurt.

She was watching him intently.

"You dig?"

Micky nodded, sighing heavily. It was as close as he would ever come to understanding. Sensing his frustration, Kath stood up and took his hands, pulling him up. And there, in the parking lot, the moon high above their heads in 1967, Kath hugged him as tightly as she could.

He returned the embrace. In his ear she whispered: "You were very kind and just as handsome as you are right now. I'm sorry if all this time travel stuff stressed you out. I don't understand how it works either."

He continued to hold her.

"All I know is that I'm here, you're here, and this is now, for both of us. Can we just go with that?"

"I would love to."


End file.
